With You Beside Me
by RealmOfPossibility
Summary: In FairyTale Land, a forest attack leaves Emma injured, Mulan on a journey to help her and Snow frantically trying to keep her daughter alive.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I know better than to start another fic at such a busy time of year, but then, I never was very smart ;) It won't be a long fic, maybe 4 or 5 chapters, but I wanted more Snow/Emma time. Much like the characters, I'm not sure what to call anyone anymore, so I might alternate between Snow and Mary Margaret.**

**Much like the third chapter of my other fic, One Right Move, this fills in a gap, this time between the end of 2x03 and when Snow/Emma/Mulan/Aurora first meet Hook in 2x05, but it has nothing to do with any current storyline.**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

With You Beside Me – Chapter 1

"Quiet." Mulan held up a hand and stopped walking. Her keen eyes pierced the gloom of the forest, searching for the danger she knew was near. The danger was not of a magical origin, of that much she could ascertain. But, there was something.

She could _feel_ it.

Snow stopped directly behind her, putting out a hand automatically to feel for Emma. When her fingers felt the leather of her daughter's jacket, she grasped a handful and tugged gently, pulling Emma slightly behind herself. She knew it would irk the grown woman to be treated in such a way, but right now, she didn't care.

The forest had eyes. And ears.

Snow heard Aurora quietly bring up the rear, as she usually did.

"What is it?" Aurora breathed, barely audible above the rustling of leaves somewhere far above them.

Mulan turned her head slightly.

"Bandits roam these woods. Filthy scavengers who prey on the weak and vulnerable. Another one of the effects of the Dark Curse, turning good men into the darkest versions of themselves."

"We just went up against Cora. Surely that qualifies us to take on a few bandits," Emma said.

Mulan turned fully to meet Emma's gaze. This blonde woman was turning out to be far more resourceful and plucky than she'd originally thought. But that didn't mean she didn't occasionally suffer from a serious case of arrogance.

"True as that may be, if we're caught, we may have to engage in a confrontation." Her eyes narrowed. "I hope you weren't lying when you said you fought a dragon. You may need to call on such skills again."

She felt a surge of satisfaction at the wariness in Emma's eyes.

"Now, we should continue, but be as..."

A whine split the silence. Something travelled through the air toward them at great speed.

"Arrow!" Snow cried, pushing Emma down and dropping beside her. Mulan and Aurora both ducked as the arrow whistled toward them and slammed into a tree above their heads.

Mulan jumped to her feet.

"Too late. They've found us! Weapons ready. Be on your guard!" She barked out orders as she drew her sword.

She ran into a clearing ahead, followed by the others. Weapons drawn and at the ready, the four formed a circle of protection with their backs to each other. Another arrow zipped by and embedded itself into a tree.

"Warning shots," Snow murmured to Emma.

"How many are there?" Emma asked, wide-eyed, holding her sword awkwardly.

Snow shook her head.

"It should be a small group," Mulan replied, her eyes towards the trees. "They don't usually move around in groups of more than..."

A man appeared in front of her, his sword gleaming. The dull light of the forest made his face appear dark, shadowed. He strode forward and Mulan moved to meet him. Their swords clashed once, twice, three times.

Before the others could move to help her, two more men emerged from the darkness with weapons raised. One of them spotted Aurora and sneered.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked, grinning ghoulishly. "A nice little treat for later." He took a few steps toward her before being blocked by a sword.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Emma said as menacingly as she could muster. She heard Mary Margaret turn away to deal with the other bandit and felt a little at a loss. With her gun, she could have held him back confidently, but with three feet of sharp steel? She hoped he was as clumsy as he was ugly.

The man tore his attention away from Aurora to focus on her.

"That wasn't wise, lassie," he snarled and raised his sword, bringing it down toward her. Emma brought her own sword up and almost reeled when they collided with a sharp screeching of metal. The sword she carried wasn't as heavy as she had anticipated, yet it was heavy enough. She pushed against her opponent's sword enough to withdraw and gain a good stance for his next attack.

The sounds of the battles around her seemed to fade into the background. She hoped everyone was managing.

Before Emma could think of a way to attack, he came at her again, this time low...no, high...no low again. It was as if they were playing, but the angry metal reminded her they were not. He moved faster now, his thrusts stronger, her parries barely keeping him at bay. The handle of the sword rubbed at the skin of her hand as she tried desperately to keep her grip. He sensed her weakness and grinned, before slicing his sword sideways through the air and knocking her sword from her hand all too easily.

Breathing heavily, Emma stared at him as he advanced on her. She glanced around, looking for a weapon to defend herself, but there was nothing but the grass and dirt beneath her feet.

"Seriously?" she whispered, taking a step back.

He suddenly rushed at her and Emma squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the metal that would surely impale her.

She heard him groan and drop at her feet and her eyes flew open to stare at the arrow in his back. Her head shot up to see Mary Margaret standing in her line of sight, bow held up against her shoulder. Emma's eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline and her mouth opened soundlessly.

And then she heard a whistle. A whine of something flying through the air. And she saw Mary Margaret's mouth open to scream.

"No!"

The jolt threw Emma backwards, but she was able to stay on her feet. She stumbled seemingly in slow motion, as if on three legs instead of two, fighting against the feeling of something dreadful having happened. Her shoulder _burned_.

"Emma!" she heard Aurora call behind her and turned, bent on helping the unarmed woman. But, her head...The trees seemed to swim before her eyes and Emma put out a hand to grab something for support. She grasped nothing but thin air and pitched forward, unaware that their roles had now reversed and that it was the shawl-wrapped, sleeping princess who was actually saving her.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks for the positive response all you readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters! Is 'favouriters' a word? Was going to keep tweaking this chapter until tomorrow, but that's starting to get a little anally retentive...**

**Chapter 2**

It was impossible to believe. After facing so many dangers already. The wraith, the portal, a strange land, Cora... And now, she was watching her daughter...

Snow White stood frozen for a moment, her mind trying to catch up to the events playing in front of her eyes.

Emma's right side jerked backwards forcefully and the momentum carried her a few stumbling steps away from the man lying dead at her feet. Aurora cried out and Snow watched, horrified, as Emma tried to turn and waved her arm out in front of her, as if trying to touch something. As she did, the angle allowed Snow to see.

See the sharp arrow which had penetrated her shoulder through to the other side.

Another whistle sounded through the air and Snow ducked the arrow that flew over her head, turning to see who had taken down her daughter. She pulled out an arrow to send the bastard straight to Hell.

Out of the corner of her eye, Snow spotted Mulan charging toward the same bandit, who had been joined by another. She uttered a war cry and her sword flashed with a fury Snow hadn't yet seen. It would have been admirable to watch in another place and time.

"Emma!" Aurora cried again and it was then that Snow came to herself. She threw her legs forward toward her staggering daughter, but not quickly enough to stop her fall.

That honour went to the most unlikely person of their group.

Aurora grunted as Emma's weight fell into her grasping arms and she half-placed, half-dropped the injured woman on the hard ground. Emma was out cold before she could feel the impact.

"Emma! Emma, no!" Snow slid in and dropped beside her daughter, turning her over quickly and brushing the blonde hair away from her eyes, cradling her face in her hands. Emma's eyes were closed and she breathed shallowly. But, she was breathing. Snow's mind reeled and she remembered...

She remembered those all-too-brief, precious minutes after Emma was born, cradling her perfect daughter in her arms, trying to draw in a lifetime of memories in her newborn face. Felt her heart shatter to pieces as she uttered a tearful goodbye to this most treasured of bundles...

...And the moment she had laid eyes on that beautiful child, now grown, and held her face in her hands. And at that moment, she had sworn on the sun and the moon that she would never let her child go again.

Snow blinked rapidly to force back her tears and cast her eyes down to Emma's shoulder, biting her lip at the sight of the arrow protruding from it. Already, the material of her jacket around the wound was dark and sticky with blood.

Aurora paled.

"It came from nowhere," she murmured, looking up at Snow, who was carefully probing the wound under the jacket. "There's so much blood."

Snow glanced up as Mulan rushed over to them, having dispatched the last of the bandits, then cast another stricken look down at Emma. Emma who, only a short day or two ago, had taken down her own walls to show Snow a little of the pain inside, a glimpse into the layers beneath the tough exterior.

"_I'm not used to someone putting me first..."_

How those words had made her ache inside. Had made her determined to show this woman that she was the number one priority. The only priority while they were lost in this land...

_Get a grip! We have got to deal with this!_

"We have to get this arrow out before she wakes up," Snow said shakily to the warrior. "It'll be easier than if she's conscious."

Mulan nodded tersely and dropped her weapons, kneeling next to Emma on the ground.

"I'll hold her up if you push the arrow through," Snow suggested. She brushed a hand gently through Emma's hair and then slid an arm under her and carefully pulled Emma up into her arms. She hadn't held her child in such a way since she had been but minutes old. Of all the moments she had fantasised about, this had never been the way Snow had imagined doing it again. She tried not to think of what the arrow would have done if it had been a few inches to the left...

Emma's face was grey, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed slightly, as if aware of the pain about to be inflicted on her.

Snow was so thankful she wasn't.

Mulan leant closer and studied the arrow, which she saw had penetrated through Emma's shoulder to the other side. She reached down and grabbed hold of it, cleanly snapping off the tail end. She threw it onto the ground behind her and then took hold of the thin wood close to the head of the arrow in two hands. She looked up and her eyes met Snow's. She saw something unfathomable in their depths. Mulan wasn't a mother, but the fear and anguish coming from this woman was palpable. Despite the fact that they appeared the same age, it was clear enough, even to an outsider. Mulan nodded confidently at her, trying to encourage her without using words.

"Ready?" she asked.

Snow gritted her teeth and clutched Emma closer. She nodded once.

"Do it," she said breathlessly.

Mulan looked up at Aurora, hovering anxiously above them.

"Go to the horses. Bring back anything we can use to stop the bleeding," she ordered and Aurora wasted no time in running to the horses.

They waited a minute before Aurora returned, bringing an armful of clothing and blankets. She dropped it all beside them and began tearing and cutting to make padding and bandages.

Mulan gripped the arrow in her hands tighter and looked down at Emma's face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and wrenched at the arrow without hesitation. It moved through Emma's shoulder halfway and then stopped.

Emma's body jerked and she released a guttural groan, her body responding to what her mind couldn't yet grasp.

"Again. Quickly, before she wakes up," Snow said urgently. She held Emma's head against her, stroking her face tenderly with her fingers.

Oh, how desperately she wished she could have taken the arrow for Emma. She remembered all too well the pain Charming's mother had endured.

_Just hold on, Emma. Please hold on._

Mulan pressed her lips together and took hold of the arrow once again. She bit her lip, narrowed her eyes in concentration and pulled.

It was then that Emma screamed, her eyes flying open, her mouth locked in a strangled wail. Her entire body tensed as if to sit up, but Snow held her down, two tears snaking their way down her face at the sight of Emma in such agony. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight as Emma struggled against her before her strength gave out and she went limp.

Mulan held up the arrow and exhaled heavily, looking at Snow and Aurora.

"It's out," she said unnecessarily.

Emma was gasping, her mind still not grasping what was going on, only that the burning in her shoulder had turned into a stabbing, tearing pain.

"Uh...m...m," she choked out, her eyes raised toward Mary Margaret's. The face was blurry, but distinguishable from the shapes around it. It gradually cleared to reveal Mary Margaret's face, eyes closed, face contorted in anguish. Emma opened her mouth again. "S...Son...of a b-bitch!"

At the typical reaction from Emma, Snow would have almost laughed if she hadn't been crying. She cradled Emma in her arms, stroking her hair.

"It's ok. It's alright," she soothed, resting Emma's head on her chest. "You're going to be just fine."

Emma fought for breath, the sound ragged in her ears. Her body felt as if it was on fire and she had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. She heard the whimpers that occasionally escaped her lips, but there was nothing she could do to stop them. She tried to listen to what Mary Margaret was whispering to her, but it required too much concentration amidst her swimming vision and the tears of pain she could feel leaking from her eyes.

But...

She still felt the way Mary Margaret's arms were wrapped tightly around her. Felt Mary Margaret's fingers stroke gently along her cheek. The warmth of Mary Margaret's body right next to hers. Mary Margaret's soothing nearness. Just like in her nursery a few days ago...

Emma let herself slip away into unconsciousness.

Snow felt Emma slump against her and breathed a sigh of relief. Emma's body could rest a bit while they bandaged the wound, sparing her another round of excruciating pain.

"Snow..."

Snow looked up at Mulan and frowned.

"What is it?" she asked, taking in Mulan's pale face and sober expression.

Mulan held up the arrow and lifted it towards Snow's face.

"Smell it."

A sharp pang of fear struck her somewhere deep inside as she leant forward carefully. When the arrow head was inches from her nose, she inhaled, eyes narrowed in concentration.

She paused. And swallowed.

Slowly, her eyes raised to meet Mulan's and the two women stared at each other in silence.

"It's poisoned, isn't it?" Aurora said softly, looking from one to the other. She stopped her bandage-making for a moment.

Snow nodded curtly, her face a mask.

"Yes. It's poisoned."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I'm so glad you're all enjoying this story. Let me warn you-I'm aiming to put us all through the wringer emotionally before this tale ends. I hope I can pack the punch I am trying for! But ultimately I believe in happily ever after...**

**You can be certain of at least Chapter 4 before Christmas and then I am going away for a few days and won't have Internet access until the 31st. Just forewarning you... :)**

**Chapter 3**

The silence weighed heavily in the forest air. The trees seemed to have stopped whispering and the birds had gone into hiding. And, to an outsider who happened upon the moment, the four people huddled together would almost have appeared as statues.

"What kind of poison is it?" Aurora asked after a long moment. "Perhaps there are some herbs in the forest we might use to treat it?"

Mulan, her eyes on Snow, shook her head.

"Most people who use poison on their weapons use the kind that needs proper medicine. Even magic. We will find no such cure in this forest. The bandits will have made sure of that."

Snow continued to hold Emma against her, as though her presence alone would bring Emma strength. She barely heard Mulan and Aurora as they discussed the poison. The only thing she was truly aware of was the unconscious form of her daughter in her arms. She looked down at Emma's face, still somewhat contorted from having woken up while the arrow was being yanked from her shoulder. As she adjusted her grip, Snow felt a dribble of sticky liquid on her hand.

"Stop the bleeding," She mumbled. She looked over at Aurora. "Get me some of those bandages."

Snow lifted her knees until most of Emma's weight was resting on them. She peeled back the leather jacket and began pulling it from Emma's body. Mulan saw what she was doing and moved to help and between the two of them, they pulled the jacket off Emma.

Snow carefully lay Emma on the forest floor and took in the wound. Blood was seeping, but not gushing, from it and some of it was already starting to congeal around the edge of the wound on both sides. Upon closer inspection, Snow could see some of the blood tinged with a strange hue, shining almost silvery.

The poison.

She took a bandage and her water bottle from Aurora and began cleaning the wound gently. Emma moaned a few times, indicating she wasn't far from consciousness, but mercifully, she didn't wake up.

"I don't wish to press, but we will need to move her soon," Mulan said quietly to Snow. "We can't stay here much longer. There may be more bandits around. Staying here after dark would be foolish."

Snow nodded without looking up.

"If she doesn't wake up, we'll have to carry her. That'll take some time." Though she would carry Emma back to Storybrooke on her slender back if that's what it took.

Mulan looked off beyond the trees, planning. Calculating.

"If we can just get to some higher ground, we'll be safer. If we're lucky we might even find a cave where we can make a fire. I wouldn't want to take a chance out in the open."

Emma groaned again and the three women turned quickly to look down at her. Her eyelids fluttered before opening and her eyes stared, out-of-focus, up at the forest canopy. Her breathing was still laboured and sounded loud in the stillness of the forest.

"Emma?" Snow whispered, leaning over her. "Can you hear me?"

A kind of gurgle rose from Emma's throat and she coughed to clear it. The coughing jolted her chest and shoulder and she winced, squeezing her eyes shut in pain and hissing through her teeth. She froze in that position for a minute, until finally exhaling cautiously and breathing slightly more normally.

"I s-swear...I killed a...dragon," she said through a clenched jaw.

The women around her relaxed visibly, exchanging uncertain half-smiles. Snow stroked her cheek.

"Well, a dragon provides a slightly bigger target than a man with a bow," she replied.

Emma's eyes fixed on her.

"Is that what hit me? An arrow?" she asked.

Mulan reached behind her and picked up the arrow carefully, holding it up for Emma to see.

"Pulled it right out of you," she said, before placing it back on the ground.

Aurora reached over and gently placed another strip of cloth rolled into padding against Emma's wound.

"But, don't worry," she began, "The pois..."

"The _problem_, the main problem is over for now," Snow cut her off and Emma turned toward her again. "We'll bandage it up nice and tight and you'll be good as new." She smiled encouragingly and Emma winced a half-smile back at her. The effort proved too great and Emma closed her eyes with a sigh. Snow glanced over to meet Aurora's curious stare and shook her head slightly.

_She doesn't need to know about the poison_, Snow told herself. _No point in worrying her needlessly just yet. _

Somewhere in the distance, a lonely bird called, its high-pitched shriek magnified, disturbing the peace. Aurora, Snow and Mulan turned toward the sound.

"I hate to cut this short, but we really need to think about moving on," Mulan said, gesturing to the forest around them. "It's going to be dark soon and we need to make camp for the night." She put a hand on Emma's good arm and Emma opened her eyes.

"I'm awake. Is that your way of telling me to get off my ass and get moving?" she asked dryly.

"Can you walk?" Mulan asked. "It would be much easier than trying to carry you. I don't know how far we'll need to go, at least away from this part of the forest."

Emma narrowed her eyes, steeled herself and attempted to sit up, gritting her teeth. Snow placed a hand behind Emma's back and reached out her other hand and Emma looked up at her, before taking it in a tight grip. With Snow and Aurora's help, Emma moved into a sitting position against a tree.

"Holy hell, it hurts!" Emma breathed deeply through her nose to get the pain under control.

Snow's brow furrowed as she busied herself with bandages and slings. Emma wasn't the type to complain or be dramatic about anything, so for her to be so verbose about her injury, Snow knew it had to be agonising.

Mulan frowned thoughtfully, looking back into the forest again.

"There may be something we can do about that," she said. "For a short time, anyway. There are some herbs that, when crushed together, have the capacity to numb pain. We could find some and make a poultice. Philip and I did it many times during battle." She grabbed Aurora's arm and pulled her up. "Come with me. Two pairs of eyes will be quicker than one in this light. I can show you what to look for."

Emma watched them disappear among the trees, before turning to her mother. Her eyes followed Mary Margaret's movements as she bandaged a pad to either side of her shoulder, then formed a sling with a long strip of cloth. Her face was set in a grim line as she went about her work determinedly. Emma wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything useful to say.

Her mother had just witnessed her get shot with an arrow. What _could_ she say?

She imagined, for a moment, that it had been her watching Henry get shot. Just a short time ago, she had been so fearful of Cora getting to Storybrooke through the wardrobe that she had burned it, effectively cutting off their means of escape from this cursed land. Her only thought then had been her son. And suddenly, she had understood a little more of what her parents had been thinking. Of why they had sent her away. Of why they couldn't be together. Now, to imagine Henry being taken down by an arrow, Emma realised she could understand and identify with her mother.

For the first time in her life, Emma knew what it was like to worry her mother.

"Do you think you can lean forward for a moment?" Mary Margaret asked Emma. Emma wordlessly obeyed, grimacing slightly as Mary Margaret bent her arm so it rested across her chest and then tied the sling around it. She pressed Emma back gently and surveyed her handiwork.

"It'll have to do for now," she said. "If Mulan finds some of those herbs, do you think you can wait til camp for them? It might help you sleep better."

Emma nodded slightly, trying to smile.

_Say something!_ she coached herself. _Tell her it's going to be ok._

"I'm sorry," came out instead.

Snow stopped what she was doing to stare at Emma.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, not sure she had heard correctly.

Emma nodded in the direction Mulan and Aurora had gone.

"We had a plan and now I'm slowing us down. Cora's already a step ahead and this puts us behind even more." Not exactly the _real_ apology she wanted to make, but it would do for now.

Snow dipped her head so that her eyes were level with Emma's. To her surprise, Emma continued to meet her gaze. How ironic that Emma should be worried about her, about their plans. Snow imagined Emma was used to brushing aside her own pain, her own difficulties. If noone else cared, why make a fuss? A pang of regret stabbed at Snow .

Always regret.

"Listen, this wasn't like before with the ogre. You calculated the risk against protecting Aurora and you were right. And if this hadn't happened to you, it would have been her, or me, or Mulan. You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. Ok?"

Emma licked her dry lips and nodded.

"Now," Snow said, trying to sound business-like and not at all motherly, for Emma's sake. "Can you stand?" She stood up and held out her hand.

Emma half-rolled onto her knees and reached out for the offered hand. She stood up slowly, wincing at every jolt of her shoulder.

"I hope Mulan finds those herbs," she said as she followed her mother toward the horses. "That, or a bottle of whiskey."

* * *

"Got them!" Mulan called out triumphantly as she and Aurora returned a short time later. "We'll find a place to make camp, then I'll make the poultice when we replace your bandages."

Emma smiled weakly and nodded. She hoped they wouldn't have to walk far. Her arm was alternately throbbing and burning and she was starting to feel a little queasy. She guessed it was from blood loss. Being upright just seemed to exacerbate it.

"What about the horse?" Aurora suggested. "Do you want to ride?"

Emma shook her head, feeling somewhat touched by the suggestion.

"Being on that thing will throw my shoulder about everywhere," she replied. "No, walking's fine." She winced another smile by way of thanks. Aurora returned it, nodding.

With that, they started off through the trees, Mulan leading, with Emma a short distance behind her. Snow made sure not to linger too close, but stayed alert for the slightest sign that Emma was in distress. She didn't like the sickly shade Emma's face had turned, or how red and bloodshot her eyes had become.

She wondered how long the poison would take.

A day?

An hour?

The shadows lengthened in the late afternoon sun as they made slow, but steady progress through the forest. Emma fought the urge to lie down and sleep with every step. She tried closing her eyes for brief periods as she walked, but that caused her to stumble enough that Mary Margaret asked if she wanted to stop. It hadn't gone unnoticed that her mother was trying desperately not to smother her with kindness and concern. Especially when she tried to casually walk behind a bush to lose her lunch. She had felt Mary Margaret's hand rubbing her back soothingly and Emma was hard-pressed to remember the last time someone had taken care of her in such a way. She was torn now, as she walked along, between moving to walk beside her mother and keeping away the intensity of emotions something like that could provoke. It was too much right now, to feel both sick _and _emotionally vulnerable.

Still, all pride and stubbornness aside, if her mother had offered to carry her right then, Emma might have let her.

Once or twice, Mulan went ahead to scout for a possible place to camp and after another hour, just as the light was fading into night and it was becoming difficult to see the path ahead, she returned with a satisfied smile.

"Come on. I found an area sheltered enough for a camp. I might even chance a fire," she said.

As they approached Mulan's chosen campsite, Emma had never looked forward to lying on the cold, hard ground quite so much as she did at that moment. She didn't even mind when Mary Margaret took hold of her good arm to guide her the last few metres.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N This is the last chapter you will see before the new year as I am going away and have only written part of chapter 5. But, next year you can look forward to despair and anguish, followed by hope and a happily ever after :) So, until next year, stay safe and have a Merry Christmas! R.O.P**

**Chapter 4**

"Why did you not tell her?"

Snow gazed into the flames of the small fire they had made and held her hands over it to warm them. She glanced over at Emma, lying on the other side of the fire, eyes closed and breathing even. Shadows cast by the fire flickered over her face, which was even paler now. Still, the herbs had apparently done their work well and were allowing her a peaceful rest. Snow had spent who knew how long sitting beside Emma, simply watching. The rise and fall of her chest. The way her blonde hair was caught by the moonlight. How her eyelids occasionally flickered. She felt like she would never tire of looking at her daughter.

Snow finally looked over at Aurora to reply to her question.

"I don't know, really. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I guess I thought I was protecting her." She glanced over at her sleeping daughter again. "What is the actual point of telling her about the poison? It doesn't make sense, especially when we can't do a lot about it right now." She looked up as Mulan joined them by the fire and threw a handful of dried branches into it. The flames licked at them greedily, snapping and popping loudly.

"The question is what do we do now?" Mulan said in a low voice. "We have got to move on, figure out what Cora's going to do next and get you back to your land. But, having Emma injured like this…" She raised her hands slightly. "It's going to slow us down far too much, especially…" She leaned forward and lowered her voice even more. "Especially if the poison starts to take hold."

"Well, do you have any ideas?" Snow asked. "When my husband's mother was poisoned, we used water from an enchanted lake to cure her." She half-smiled at the bitter memory of her mother-in-law's sacrifice. "Unfortunately, I daresay that lake is far from here. And without even a thimble-full of water remaining." She ran a hand over her face. "And considering what Cora did to Lancelot, I doubt I have any friends left in this land." She looked wistful. "They're probably all in Storybrooke."

_Out of reach._

Mulan sat up a little straighter, considering the plan she had been formulating for awhile.

"There is one possibility," she began. "I know of a healer who lived in these parts. I visited with him several times before. At one point, some time ago, there were many soldiers being poisoned by enemy arrows and he built up quite a collection of antidotes. If I could find him, he might be able to help us." She held up the arrow which had pierced Emma. "I could take this to him so he could make an antidote, if he doesn't already have one."

Snow looked hopeful.

"How far is this healer?" she asked intently, her mind already working on the hows and whys of transporting Emma overland.

Mulan narrowed her eyes as she calculated.

"From here to the last place I knew him to be would be about a day by horse if I rested sparingly. It would take perhaps a few hours if he had to prepare an antidote and then it would take me another day to return to you. Perhaps less if you were able to follow me even part of the way."

Aurora chewed her lip and looked over at Emma. Even from a distance, Snow's daughter looked sickly and wan and she breathed as if she had just run a mile.

"Does she have two or three days?" she asked cautiously, hating to pose such a question.

At those words, Snow stood up and moved protectively toward Emma. Stopping, she turned back to Mulan.

"You would go alone?" she asked wonderingly."Why would you do that for us?" she continued. "Why would you risk yourself for people who are near strangers?"

Mulan looked uncomfortable and her gaze moved to the trees beyond them.

"It is the right thing to do, of course," she replied. Her expression softened. "I know what it's like to watch over someone you care about." She felt Aurora's eyes on her. "If I have the power to do something, I will always do it. That is the way of my people."

Snow smiled gratefully.

"If you can get that antidote, I will keep her alive until then. Whatever it takes." She sat beside Emma and picked up her hand. "We've been through too much to lose each other now."

_I can never lose her again._

* * *

Emma woke with a start. Her leaden eyelids opened slowly and the first thing she saw was the fire, burning brightly against the night sky.

No wonder she felt so hot.

She stretched her legs a little and shifted her back, scrunching her eyes as the wound in her shoulder protested.

She was thirsty and licked her dry, cracked lips, closing her eyes again. Her heart was thudding inside her chest far too quickly for someone who had been asleep. She tried breathing more deeply to slow it down, but after a few minutes of trying, she gave up. An alarming thought crossed her mind that perhaps there was something else wrong with her. Maybe the wound was infected...

Emma lifted her uninjured arm and let it drift toward the bandages when a gentle hand took hold of hers and placed it back on her stomach.

"Easy," A voice whispered and Emma felt her hair being brushed back from her forehead.

Emma frowned and opened her eyes.

"Who is it?" she said hoarsely. Suddenly, her vision cleared and the voice came with the face of her mother. Had she really not recognised Mary Margaret's voice?

"She's burning up," Emma heard and she felt her head being lifted carefully and a canteen of water being pressed to her lips. She opened her mouth and closed her eyes with relief at the cool liquid trickling down her burning throat.

"Emma," Mary Margaret said, "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Emma felt like a helpless child with the time it was taking to do even simple things, but eventually she looked up into Mary Margaret's eyes.

"What is it?" she croaked.

And she met her mother's gaze.

She must have been dehydrated or light-headed or something. It certainly must have been how sick she was feeling that messed with her mind because suddenly Emma felt like melting from the look of utter love and devotion her mother was giving her. She remembered that look on the street in Storybrooke when she had met her parents for the first time. When her mother had held her face in her hands and Emma had had to physically force herself to stand her ground instead of run in the opposite direction. This time, however, she couldn't tear her eyes away...

Until a violent chill took hold of her and she closed her eyes, clenching her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering.

Snow took the blanket Aurora held out to her and wordlessly draped it over Emma. What had Emma been so intent on? She had been staring at her, almost in wonderment, as if on the verge of saying something. Snow had other things to worry about, though. That short moment of staring into Emma's eyes had revealed the glint of silver in her pupils.

The poison was moving. Snow tried not to give in to the rising fears that threatened to take hold. Freaking out wasn't going to help anyone. And if Emma saw it, she might suspect something else was going on.

She started as Mulan appeared beside her.

"Come with me," she said.

Snow followed her wordlessly, smiling gratefully as Aurora passed her to sit with Emma.

They walked in silence for a minute, before Mulan reached out an arm to stop her.

"Careful," she said, and pointed.

Snow peered into the dark and, by the light of the torch Mulan had made, she spotted a trip-wire fashioned from thin rope running off into the dark.

"I have fixed one at the obvious entry points," Mulan explained. "It leads to a small trigger of our cooking pots and pans. It will not hurt anyone, but it will make a loud noise. Perhaps it will give you enough time, should you find yourselves under attack."

Snow nodded.

"I showed Aurora how to engineer it. She wanted to be the one to take it down and rig it up if you move tomorrow." Mulan glanced back towards the campsite. "To let you be with Emma. She was more adept than I anticipated." She led Snow further on, both carefully stepping over the trip-wire. "And now, I must go. I have already farewelled Aurora. Time is most certainly of the essence." They reached a small clearing where her horse waited. She passed the torch to Snow. "Give me this night and one more. Look for me as you take your supper on the third night."

"We will try to walk on tomorrow," Snow replied. "I don't know how far Emma will be able to go."

Mulan picked up a stick and bent down, drawing a symbol on the ground in front of her. Snow held the torch over it as she drew.

"This is the symbol of my father's country," she explained. "It will not be well known in these parts." She dropped the stick and stood up straight. "On the third night, carve it into the trees around your camp. It will be my guide." She waited for Snow to memorise the symbol before dragging her boot-clad foot over it, erasing it from all sight.

Snow picked up the reins and held them out to her.

"We already owe you so much," she said softly. "If you succeed in this, I will owe you everything."

Mulan took the reins and smiled briefly.

"Such a debt will surely be cancelled when the kingdom is restored," she said simply. She paused for a moment. "Farewell. Until the third night."

"The third night," Snow echoed. She watched Mulan disappear into the darkness, carrying her fervent hopes.

_She will return, _Snow assured herself.

_She has to._

Charming was always telling her to have faith. But, even he would have his endless hope tested now.

She was stuck in a cursed land, though the magic that held it prisoner was gone. She was chasing after the mother of her enemy.

And above all these things...

There was Emma. Her most cherished of treasures. The one she had wandered twenty-eight years without.

Snow's eyes burned with unshed tears to the point she could no longer see and her lips twisted to hold them back. She continued to gaze into the gloom of the forest.

Mulan had to come back with a cure.

The alternative was beyond consideration.

It was unthinkable.

* * *

Snow made her way back to camp. Aurora sat beside Emma, dabbing at her face with a cold compress. She looked up as Snow took a place on Emma's other side. In the light of the fire, Aurora could see her red-rimmed eyes as she gazed intensely at her daughter, as if trying to memorise every curve and line on her face.

"She will return," Aurora said. "She has protected me and guided me through every danger. If there is a person in this land noble and strong enough to get us what we need, it is Mulan."

"We?" Snow asked in surprise.

Aurora smiled.

"Yes," she replied. "_We. _Our lives, our paths seem to have become intertwined_._ I believe, as does Mulan, that our successes and failures now lie with each other." She reached forward and adjusted Emma's blanket, before handing the compress to Snow. As Snow took it, Aurora clasped the other woman's fingers with her own. Snow looked down and bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as emotion threatened to overwhelm her again. After a few moments, she looked up and smiled weakly at her companion.

They each lapsed into silence, maintaining their vigil over Emma far into the night.

* * *

The air seemed to sing with sound.

Or perhaps it was the ringing in her ears.

Emma lay still on the ground, not wanting to move because of the ache in her...well, everywhere. It was an ache deep in her bones, sapping her body of its strength.

And her mind.

She was quite sure she had never felt so rotten in all her twenty-eight years. Not when she'd had the flu or when she'd broken her arm or any one of half a dozen other incidents.

No, this pretty much took the cake.

She was thirsty again and turned her head to see if anyone was close by. In the light of the dying embers of the fire, she saw Aurora sound asleep under a blanket, her rolled-up shawl serving as a pillow.

Where was Mary Margaret?

And Mulan?

Emma shifted uncomfortably, trying to move the weight she could feel on her stomach. She nearly jumped a mile when the weight seemed to slide across her abdomen and she lifted her head with a jerk to look down, regretting the sharp movement almost instantly.

An arm. Just an arm.

Emma followed it to Mary Margaret's body, lying on the ground beside her, her eyes closed and breathing slow and even.

Emma momentarily forgot her thirst as she watched her mother sleep. She wondered, not for the first time, how someone who looked no older than her could possibly be her mother. And lately, what with swirling portals, storybook heroines and Cora, that hadn't even been the craziest thing that had happened to her.

She hadn't shared a bed, so to speak, with anyone in a really long time. None of the guys she had dated had either wanted to stay the whole night or been allowed. So to be here, in a strange land, lying beside her thirty-year-old mother, was odd to say the least. Though it allowed her to look at Mary Margaret without being asked what she was thinking. Or feeling. Or without being gazed at as if she was the most precious thing ever created.

Because what she was thinking would open an emotional can of worms she wasn't ready for.

That in a world full of unlovely people, her mother was quickly becoming the best person she had ever known.

Now, she was_ really_ thirsty. If she could just get out from under Mary Margaret's arm, she could search for some water.

She placed a hand gently on her mother's hand and lifted it agonisingly slowly, moving it away from her body and breathing a sigh of relief when Mary Margaret appeared not to wake. Using her good arm, she raised herself up until she was in a sitting position and tried not to fall back down at the dots appearing in front of her eyes or the way the whole forest seemed to sway under her gaze. She manoeuvred her legs until she was kneeling, feeling herself sway at every movement until, finally, she was standing.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Emma's head whipped up to stare at Mary Margaret standing ten feet from her.

On the other side of the fire.

Emma stared disbelievingly at her for a moment, before jerking her head down. She saw nothing but bare earth next to where she had been lying.

But, Mary Margaret had been lying next to her, hadn't she? Her arm had been across Emma's stomach. Emma had _felt_ it. She had watched her sleeping...

"Emma? What is it?" Snow asked, alarmed at seeing the bewildered look on her daughter's face.

"I wanted...wanted some water," Emma said, still frowning in confusion. Had it been a dream?

Snow reached down and picked up a canteen. She gestured with her fire torch.

"There's a river nearby. I need to refill our canteens. Are you ok to come with me?"

Emma nodded, still glancing back at the ground behind her. She shook her head and followed her mother.

"Careful," Mary Margaret said. She reached out a hand and Emma took it without thinking. "There's a trap right here." She stepped over the rope and helped Emma over. Taking a chance, she kept her hold on Emma's hand and led her along by the light of the fire, glancing back from time to time as if to check her daughter was still there.

There were many firsts she would never have. First steps. First word. First day of school.

Yet, even under these circumstances, her first time properly holding her daughter's hand was the most wonderful feeling in the world. It felt like a connection, a thread joining them together.

After a few minutes they arrived at the river. Snow let go of Emma's hand reluctantly and moved toward the riverbank to fill their canteens.

Emma sank to her knees next to the river. The moon appeared brilliant in the night sky, its reflection clear in the water, making her eyes squint. There wasn't a breath of wind and the water lay unmoving in the still air. She brought one hand down into the water, taking in a sharp breath at its icy touch and brought a handful to her face. She imagined the skin of her face hissing as the water came in contact with it. She repeated the action again and again until her mind felt clearer and her body fresher. The herbs had certainly done their work and the pain in her arm had faded to a dull ache. She almost felt normal.

Except for the fact she felt awful.

Emma sat by the river and stared into the night, long after the ripples made from her disturbance had faded. She wondered if she looked as bad as she felt. If so, she was surprised Mary Margaret hadn't made a stretcher and insist she lie on it. Especially now that she appeared to be imagining things.

The water was so still, it could almost act as a...

Emma leant forward, holding her hair back and looked down into the water. Her face was somewhat distorted, but she could see some extremely dark circles and dry, chapped lips.

_Face it Emma. You look like crap._

Suddenly, Emma frowned and looked closer into the water. Closer at her face. She rubbed her left eye for a moment, then squeezed both eyes shut. Finally, she opened them wide and stared again at her reflection.

No mistake.

Her eyes were glowing silver.

"What the hell is that?" she whispered. She rubbed her eyes again and looked, with the same result.

_That can't be good._

She blinked again and the silver was gone.

"Emma?" she heard Mary Margaret call softly and looked up.

"We should go back to the camp. I don't want Aurora waking up and wondering where we are."

Emma nodded.

"Ok."

Mary Margaret knelt down next to her.

"How do you feel?" she asked cautiously.

Emma stared at her. She could shrug it off, of course. That would be easy. To say she was fine and go back to camp and lie down and go to sleep. But, then tomorrow would come and with it would come another version of the same question. Mary Margaret would keep asking because she cared. Because she loved Emma. Even a fool could see that.

And at what point did lying to Mary Margaret ever feel ok? More than that, did she really want to lie to her mother from the start of whatever their relationship was?

Still, there was her absolute abhorrence of being vulnerable to consider.

"Not great," she finally offered with a weary smile.

Mary Margaret seemed to consider this for a moment.

"What can I do?" she asked, reaching out to touch Emma's arm.

_That helps_, Emma thought, feeling her mother's warm hand.

She half-laughed.

"Help me up."

Mary Margaret stayed close beside her as they left the river. Emma was quiet on the walk back to camp, her mind replaying the eerie silver glow of her eyes.

* * *

Morning came and with it, the pain returned. Emma, ever proud, didn't want to ask for more of the numbing herbs, choosing to suffer in silence. She was worried the others would see the strange colour of her eyes, so made an effort not to make eye-contact, knowing that would lead to worrying her mother more.

She didn't want to do that.

After awhile, it became clear that someone from their group was missing.

"Where's Mulan?" she asked.

Snow had been waiting for this question since sunrise.

"She knows of a healer not far from here who may have a treatment we can use on your arm. There were also a few ideas she had concerning Cora and she wanted to check them out."

It sounded believable in her head.

She allowed herself to breathe again when Emma looked around, considered things and nodded slowly.

"Oh. Where will we meet her?"

"She should be back tomorrow night. We'll walk east for awhile today if you can manage it, just to make the return journey a little shorter," Snow replied.

Emma said no more about it and they continued packing up the camp. Snow glanced over at her daughter often. It was clear Emma was struggling, by her slow movements and frequent rests. She desperately wanted Emma to lie down and accept some more of the herbs for her shoulder, but Snow knew the request would have to come from Emma herself. Snow had spent a sleepless night watching Emma thrash about in a restless sleep. Her heart had been through the wringer, listening to Emma mumbling and coughing and shivering. At one point, she had wrapped a blanket round both of them and held Emma close, frightened by the rapid beating of her heart and the weakness of her limbs. She had, for a few horrifying moments, imagined that the poison had sped up its work and had felt herself grow increasingly numb and cold at the thoughts creeping around her as she sat in the dark. That is, until, in the grey light of early dawn, Emma's fever died down and the shivering subsided.

A reprieve.

But it hadn't taken Snow's fear with it.

She wondered if Emma had noticed her eyes when she had been staring into the river.

Eventually, the camp was cleared and they began walking east through the forest. The morning air was cool and it felt like heaven on Emma's face. The ache in her shoulder seemed to be spreading down her body. She was sure she could feel it in her legs now. She berated herself in her increasingly foggy mind.

_Just ask for the herbs. She won't mind._

_She'll think you're weak._

_You are weak._

_She wants to help. Have you seen the way she watches you? _

_She still thinks you're helpless here._

_No. No, she said she came here to be with you._

_I want to lie down._

_I want to lie down._

_I want to lie down._

The words became a mantra in her head with each heavy-footed step. At one point, she became aware of Aurora walking beside her. Didn't Aurora usually bring up the rear? How slow was she walking?

Emma looked over at Aurora and saw the woman staring back at her in concern. Emma noticed her hand was hovering under Emma's elbow, not touching, just hovering, as if she expected Emma to fall down at any moment.

And suddenly it became clear.

Aurora was her mother's proxy. When she wanted to walk beside Emma, she sent Aurora to do it. When she wanted to help Emma walk, she sent Aurora. When she wanted to be worried, Aurora was the one who could look at her that way.

Was Mary Margaret unsure about doing it herself? Of course she was. Emma's personality all but forbid it. Again, she thought of Henry. Hadn't it hurt every time Regina had taken Henry away? How much worse would it feel if Henry turned his back willingly, pushed her away on purpose?

It suddenly occurred to her Mary Margaret hadn't been hovering around her nearly as much as Emma would have expected. She'd jumped into a portal for Emma. She'd faced down an ogre, fought Cora...

For her.

An icy thought squeezed inside Emma's chest.

_Has she given up on me?_

She shook her head. The wound in her shoulder and lack of sleep were turning her inside out. Of course Mary Margaret wouldn't give up on her.

Something else was going on. Mary Margaret would be twisted in knots over her injury. Experience had proven that.

Emma knew she had to be the one to reach out.

She stopped and Aurora immediately stopped beside her.

"What is it?" Aurora asked, glancing ahead at Snow.

Emma wanted to disappear into the ground with what she was about to ask. Her tongue felt swollen, her mouth as dry as dust. Her legs were like lead weights, but her head felt as light as a feather.

She knew she was in trouble.

"Can I...?" she said softly, falling to one knee as her head seemed to want to explode. She pressed a hand to it, her words wiped out before she could finish her sentence.

Before she could call for her mother.

"Snow!" Aurora cried, but Snow was already sprinting back to them, flinging her bow aside and kneeling beside Emma.

Emma knelt, swaying, on the forest floor. She could see her mother's face in front of her, increasingly blurry. It looked like a picture. Or a dream. It felt like that moment by the fire...

Almost certainly a dream.

She could do anything with her mother in a dream, couldn't she? Say anything? She didn't have to be afraid or embarrassed in her dreams. She could watch her mother sleeping, or say how wonderful she thought her mother was. Even touch her, not just a hug like in the nursery, but feel the skin of her mother's face under her fingers.

Emma blinked slowly. She wanted to fall into that dream...

Emma reached out with her good arm and touched Mary Margaret's cheek with trembling fingers. The skin was warm and smooth and she ran her fingers along it gently, watching how the blur that was her mother's head tilted to follow her hand.

The world was getting dark. Dreams never lasted long for Emma. She leant forward until she felt Mary Margaret's shoulder under her head. Letting her eyes close, she continued stroking her mother's cheek and frowned when she felt wetness.

_Is it raining?_

Emma felt herself become weightless and drifted away into the dream.

* * *

The horse's hooves thundered across the ground. The road stretched in front of Mulan, endlessly straight. She looked up at the sun's position in the sky.

It was already higher than she would have liked.

Precious time was ebbing.

"Yah!" she yelled, urging the horse on.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Should have been wrapping presents, finishing the shopping and doing any number of a hundred things on my to-do list. Yet, somehow, another chapter got written. So here's my Christmas gift to you! Now, you really will have to wait until next year for more because I have only written an outline and about 200 hundred words of the next chapter. Though I would like to finish this story before OUAT comes back from the hiatus.**

**Happy reading!**

**Chapter 5**

Snow's shoulders shook as she felt Emma go slack and she wrapped her arms around her for a long moment. She buried her face in Emma's golden hair and breathed in deeply, never wanting to leave the embrace. Eventually, the weight of Emma kneeling forward against her shoulder became hard to bear and she slowly, gently untangled herself from Emma's clumsy embrace and lay her carefully on the ground. Snow wiped her eyes and cheeks to be rid of the evidence of how she had felt when Emma had reached out. It didn't matter that Emma probably didn't realise what she was doing or would be mortified if she woke up and remembered. It didn't matter that her sickness had started affecting her mind or that she would probably withdraw again.

No, right now the only thing that mattered was the look on Emma's face when she had touched her cheek. Just for that moment, there had been no barriers, no walls, no anger. There had been no words of regret or sorrow. No masks of disguised hurt.

It had been the face of someone who was, for the first time, seeing something indescribably precious and wanted to keep it close. A child who had once found it near impossible to accept that the person in front of them held them in a part of their heart few are able to enter. And was just now starting to believe it.

It wasn't the Emma she knew.

But it was still Emma. A part of Emma that had only just been unlocked. And, poison or no, she was not going to let that Emma go.

"What do you want to do?" Aurora asked quietly, reluctantly disturbing the moment. She watched as Snow squeezed her daughter's hand gently and lay a hand on her cheek. Her heart lurched in sympathy and, not for the first time that day, hoped Mulan was able to find the healer. And quickly.

It was what all their hopes rested on.

Snow stood up and turned in a circle, taking in their surroundings.

"Well, we certainly can't go anywhere for now," she replied. "We need to set up another camp, get another fire going, get Emma to eat something..." She looked at Aurora and raised her eyebrows. "Think you can find us a spot?"

Aurora looked astounded.

"Me?" she asked.

Snow nodded.

"I don't want Emma to wake up and worry if I'm not here. Besides, I'm sure some of Mulan's knowledge has rubbed off on you." She smiled encouragingly. "It's just for a few hours. You don't need to go far, just stay alert and be careful. Take my sword if you like. I'm sure there will be plenty of choices of places."

Aurora huffed a laugh and turned toward the path.

"Very well. I will come and find you when I have a suitable spot," she said and wandered off down the path.

Snow watched until she disappeared around a bend and turned her attention back to Emma. In the silence and solitude, the only thing she could really do was sit and watch her.

Her daughter was so beautiful.

Surely, the fairest of them all.

Snow supposed that's what all mothers thought about their daughters, but hers...hers was even more lovely because she knew what lay behind the blonde hair and piercing eyes. And she was learning more with each passing day.

She was beautiful and smart. She was funny in a black, sarcastic kind of way. She was her father and her mother in so many little ways. And she cared, despite her protestations. Snow, well Mary Margaret, had seen it when she reunited those kids with their father back in Storybrooke. She'd seen it with Henry. And even with herself, when Emma had fought tooth and nail to clear her name of Kathryn's murder.

Emma Swan cared about her as Mary Margaret. She had opened her heart to her, considered her family, fought for her.

Snow hoped against hope she would grow to care about her as Snow White.

Before time ran out.

* * *

This time when Emma woke, there was no pretending she didn't hurt all over. The moment she moved, shooting pains seemed to stab her everywhere and she gasped a breath, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut.

When she could breathe properly again, she opened her eyes and looked up.

Aurora smiled sympathetically.

"Welcome back," she said and placed a cool, wet cloth on her forehead. "Your fever's getting a little high." She sat back on her heels. "Do you remember what happened?"

Emma's forehead scrunched up as she wracked her brain. It was hard to distinguish between what had been a dream and what was reality. They had been walking. Mulan was going to get some sort of medicine. She'd fallen over, her head caught in a vice.

And she'd...

No.

_Please let that have been a dream._

But, she knew it wasn't.

If it hadn't already been hot, Emma's face would have broken out in a blush of deep embarrassment as she stared up at the sky.

What had come over her? When she'd knelt there facing Mary Margaret, she'd felt a foggy sense of peace descend upon her and suddenly, everything she had ever tried to protect herself from seemed to be everything she wanted in that moment. It had been like alcohol, breaking down her inhibitions, allowing her to act in ways she never would while sober.

Except...

Except...

She _had _been sober. Sick, but sober. Just like when her mother had looked at her and she felt like she could fall into the feelings it stirred.

Who was she really looking at when she looked at that woman? The lines between loving Mary Margaret and knowing Snow White were becoming blurry, hard to separate. She didn't have to remind herself as much anymore of whom it was she was seeing.

She backtracked over her thoughts.

Yes.

She loved Mary Margaret.

Emma didn't quite know what to do with that.

And then, the object of her musings appeared and knelt down next to Aurora.

And looked at her in that same tender way as before.

"Hey," Emma rasped, trying to moisten her lips enough to talk properly. "Couldn't quite stay on my feet."

Mary Margaret smiled.

"That's one way to get you to rest," she replied. Despite the joke, Emma could see, this time, a hint of worry behind the smile. A measure of uncertainty in her eyes.

Emma reached out with her hand and groped about a little, trying to locate Mary Margaret's hand. The uncertainty disappeared and they locked hands, Emma tugging a little.

"Can you help me sit up?" Emma asked. "Lying down makes me feel like an invalid."

Aurora scooted around behind her and between the three of them, they managed to set Emma up against a tree, legs crossed and spread over with a blanket. Aurora busied herself on the other side of the camp, allowing Emma and Mary Margaret a private moment.

Emma took a deep breath, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

"You would never lie to me, would you?" she asked, her eyes glued to her mother.

The question stunned Snow into silence. She sat back and stared at her daughter, wondering where on earth it had come from. Of course, there was only one answer, but Snow was more than a little curious as to where the question had come from in the first place.

"No, Emma," she said carefully, deliberately. "I would..._will_...never lie to you."

Emma nodded, as if reassured.

Then dropped the bomb.

"Why am I so sick?" she asked. "I saw the colour of my eyes in the river and I know you must have seen it too. And judging by the pain and...other things, my arm isn't the only problem and I want you to tell me what it is."

She didn't sound angry, Snow noted. And Snow had known she couldn't keep it from her forever. She sat back on her heels and tried to steady her thoughts and feelings.

_Just state it matter-of-factly. Don't make a fuss. She'll hate that._

Emma laughed nervously at the silence.

"What is it? I'm not dying am I?"

The poorly-timed joke hung in the air between them like a cloud of poisonous gas.

Snow's heart tightened as if someone had reached into her chest to pull it out. Her eyes burned from the effort of not crying. When she finally spoke, it was in a perfectly calm, completely unnatural tone, and what she said made Emma's brow furrow in bewilderment.

"The arrow which pierced you…it was poisoned." The words almost stuck in Snow's throat.

Emma considered the revelation for a moment. Was it strange that she wasn't really surprised by the information? It would explain a lot.

"And Mulan…?"

"She went to find a healer who may be able to make an antidote." Snow wasn't sure how she was even able to speak. "She'll be back tomorrow night." Was that a lie if she actually believed it herself?

Emma raised her eyebrows and looked around their camp. It seemed emptier somehow. Colder. The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was some time in the afternoon. Did she have a day and a half left?

"If she doesn't make it back tomorrow night, am I screwed?" she asked eventually.

Snow's expression never wavered.

"She'll be back."

Her tone left no room for argument.

* * *

She looked.

The trees crowded in, blending the landscape together. Mulan dismounted and led her horse along by the reins, occasionally cutting a stray branch with her sword.

She had ridden harder than she ever had in her life that day. She had ridden as if the curse were biting at her heels, threatening to engulf them all over again.

She had spent most of that time questioning why she would go to such lengths to help these strangers. Everything she had said to Snow was true. It _was_ the way of her father's people. She _would_ always do something if it was in her power. But she was going to extremes, risking her life and even risking the promise she had made to Philip.

But, Mulan couldn't shake the feeling that these two women, Snow White and her daughter, were the key to getting back everything they had lost.

She slashed at another overhanging branch.

_Look harder! _She lectured herself. _He will be here._

She wouldn't fail.

She wouldn't.

* * *

Emma stared through blood-shot eyes at the vast azure of the sky. If she looked just at the sky, she could almost pretend she was still in Storybrooke, meeting Henry at the castle. Or eating pie at Granny's.

Not here, in the woods, with her mother and Sleeping Beauty, with an arrow wound that would surely kill her if Mulan didn't return in time.

Time to swallow her pride.

"Aurora?" she called softly and the woman came, her eyebrows raised in expectation.

"What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling beside Emma.

Emma cast her eyes towards Mary Margaret, who was skinning some kind of animal, preparing to cook it. She sincerely hoped it wasn't chimera.

"Do you...do we have any of those herbs left?" Emma asked, unable to look at Aurora.

Aurora didn't answer for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of Emma's chest. She knew it had taken a great deal for Emma to ask her that and she didn't have the heart to tell her they had run out. Still, by Snow's own admission, she had found them a more than adequate campsite. Why couldn't she find more herbs too?

"If you can wait for just a while, I can get some," she assured Emma, standing up.

Emma finally looked at her, glassy-eyed. Aurora's heart lurched in sympathy.

"I'd really appreciate it," Emma whispered and Aurora nodded. She reached over and grabbed a small knife and a sword. She knew it would be laughable to anybody who truly knew her, to see her carrying a weapon, but it might make a stranger think twice before attacking her.

"Once Snow has prepared something for you to eat, I'll dress your wound again and you'll sleep well," she smiled, before making for the trees, walking the hundred metre boundary, before carefully stepping over the trip-wire she had strung up.

Her friends would laugh in amazement at that too.

Emma raised her hand and prodded gently at her wound, wincing. She pulled at the bandage, flinching as it rubbed against the raw flesh. She looked around again to make sure Mary Margaret wasn't looking and pulled it off completely, sucking in her breath as she leaned forward to remove the sling. Her face twisted in pain as she got closer to the wound itself.

She had to see.

She had to know what she was fighting against.

And when she saw it, she wished she hadn't.

The wound was angry and red, to be sure. But, Emma wasn't bothered by that.

The icy, dark silver web of veins that stretched from it, down her arm and up towards her neck.

That was what she couldn't take her eyes off.

Now she knew it was there, she had become much more aware of the poison. She could feel its tendrils stretch further into her, taking as much of her as it could. She could feel herself fading, diminishing towards some sort of darkness. It became evident in the cough she had developed during the afternoon that felt as if she would hack up a lung. It was present in the dreams she was having when she snatched a few moments of rest. Or were they visions of reality? And it was clear enough by how difficult moving was becoming.

How much more real the possibility of dying had become. She couldn't dwell on herself, though. She had others to think of.

So she formed a plan.

And made the mistake of sharing it with her mother.

She watched Mary Margaret stoke the fire, setting the uncooked meat on a spit of sorts. She had been pretty quiet since she'd told Emma about the poison. Yet, Emma so much as grunted and she knew what to bring to her, how to position her, when to sit with her.

"Mary Margaret?" Emma said quietly.

Mary Margaret looked up from the fire with a tired smile.

"What is it?"

Emma steeled herself.

"I want you to do something for me."

Mary Margaret stood up immediately and came to her side.

"Of course. What is it?" she asked again.

"When I...when I'm gone, I want you to keep going until you find a way to get back to Storybrooke."

Her mother' s face was impassive.

"We're going back together, Emma. That's not up for debate."

Emma tried again, determined.

"No, you don't understand. Henry is going to need you. I do _not_ want him to end up with Regina. You have to go back and stop that from happening. He'll go with you...you and David." She rubbed her eyes, which were sore and strained.

"No, Emma," Mary Margaret warned. "_You_ don't seem to understand. I will not be leaving you here. Not now. Not ever. The only thing Henry will need me to be is his grandmother."

_Why won't she hear me? _ Emma thought in frustration.

"Well, you can't stay here and let Cora win because of me," she snapped, looking angrily up at Mary Margaret. "That's stupid. You have to stop her from doing whatever she has planned. You cannot let her get to Henry. To any of them."

Mary Margaret stood up and began pacing agitatedly.

"You need to have faith, Emma," she replied, glancing in Emma's direction. "We have options. There is a way out of this. And when we find it, we will get you better and then go after Cora_ together_."

Emma laughed bitterly.

"What options? We're waiting for Mulan to find some mysterious healer in the woods! That is what we're counting on. And as for the rest, Cora is out of our reach and closer to Henry and David and everyone else as we speak. We need to start thinking about them because..."

"Stop it! Just stop!" Mary Margaret cried. She whirled around and faced Emma. "You think I haven't faced impossible situations before? Well, I have. And I have a found a way each and every time." Her tone softened. "See, I won't let you give up, Emma. Your father taught me never to do that and now I'm teaching you."

Emma stared at her, her eyes full of anguish.

"But, I'm screwed. I have silver streams of poison running through me." She gestured to her arm. "Not even Charming's famous optimism can beat that..."

Snow's eyes blazed and she walked over, knelt down and reached forward, grabbing Emma's chin with her hand and turning her face gently, but insistently toward her.

"If by screwed, you mean dead, I want you to listen very carefully," she whispered.

Their eyes locked together and Emma was almost overcome by the intensity of her mother's gaze.

"You, Emma Swan, are _not_ dying. Do you hear me? There is _no_ way you are going anywhere." She raised her other hand and cupped Emma's face. "I will _never_ willingly let you go. I will make any deal, travel to any land, use any magic necessary. Do you understand that I won't stop trying? I _can't_ stop." She shook her head. "For Henry. For your father. For me…" Her voice began to crack slightly. "You don't even know. You honestly have no idea that we can't imagine a world without you. You said you couldn't understand why we chose to let you grow up without us. Well, I would rather twenty-eight years of a curse than a lifetime of never knowing you at all. Then, there would be _no_ hope." She sat back. "As long as you are breathing, you are going to fight. You are going to fight because you come from two people who don't know how to give up."

Emma couldn't speak in the face of such surety. It was always 'when' with her mother and never 'if.' And it wasn't blind faith, as if she were sending her wishes up to the stars and hoping for the best. It was faith based on trust. And love.

Two things of which Emma Swan had always been in short supply.

But, she'd already admitted she loved Mary Margaret, hadn't she? And hadn't Mary Margaret protected her and guided her through this world? And when Mary Margaret had said she would never lie, Emma believed her. Yes, ever since she'd shown up at Mary Margaret's door to accept her offer of a room all those months ago, there had been something inside Emma that had known it was right.

Mary Margaret had never let her down.

And neither had Snow White.

Perhaps it was time to return some of that faith.

Emma nodded once.

"I won't give up," she said quietly.

And she couldn't deny her heart felt lighter when Mary Margaret smiled proudly.

* * *

The sun dropped lower.

The shadows grew.

Night was returning.

Emma refused another bite of food, breaking into a coughing fit that Snow could barely watch. The last hour had seen Emma deteriorate. The silvery web was moving across her body and now covered her neck and chest, bringing with it pain, chills and strange visions. Aurora had returned with some herbs, but was determined to find more and so had disappeared again, promising to return before dark.

"Do you want to lie down?" Snow asked, putting the food aside and adjusting the blanket.

Emma stared out into space somewhere, her head leaning back against the tree behind her. She shook her head.

"Nope," she murmured.

Snow moved closer and touched her hand.

"Do you need more herbs?" Snow asked.

Emma half-chuckled.

"I'm not sure they're working anymore," she replied. She frowned. "Where's Aurora?"

It was the third time she had asked and Snow felt her spirits sink a little lower. She had answered that same question twice before as if Emma had never heard it.

For a while now, she had been going over their options. They could stay and wait for Mulan. But, she wouldn't be back for another day and although the nights were worse than the days, Snow couldn't deny Emma's condition was worsening more quickly now. They could put Emma on the horse and try to follow in Mulan's direction, but Emma was in pain at even small movements, let alone being bounced around on a horse.

She had told Emma they had options, but truth be told, those were the only two. And as the hours dragged on, the more Snow realised that her daughter's life was now entirely in Mulan's hands.

"Snow?"

She looked to the trees, expecting to see Aurora emerge from her search. But, there was nothing but the shifting shadows and the dying light.

This time, the person coughed.

"Snow?"

Snow turned back to Emma, completely bewildered. Had Emma just called her by her real name?

"Yes?" she whispered, unable to fix on exactly which emotions that one word from her daughter's lips had provoked. Absolute delight. Absolute devastation.

"I want you to tell me..." Emma frowned uncomfortably as she shifted position. "I want you to tell me about the people you used to know. Before the curse. I read it in Henry's book. But, now I can hear it from you."

Snow shook her head in disbelief, tears welling in her eyes.

"You called me Snow."

Emma closed her eyes briefly.

"Mary Margaret doesn't know any more than I do. Snow knows everything. Snow knows Prince Charming and the Evil Queen and King George and Geppetto." She opened her eyes again and stared dully at Snow. "And she knows about a wardrobe that sent her baby to..." She stopped. Her voice seemed not to belong to her anymore. Everything felt confused, fuzzy around the edges. She hoped she wouldn't lose control completely and start saying things she would rather keep hidden. About her feelings. And her regrets. And her desperate hopes.

Fortunately Mary Margaret seemed to understand, though Emma noticed her wiping her eyes.

Damn it. She had to stop making her mother unhappy.

"Why do you want to know now?" Snow questioned, settling beside Emma.

Emma grimaced with what Snow thought was an attempt at a smile.

"You said...you said you faced impossible situations before," she whispered, turning her head and facing Snow. They were inches apart and Emma's eyes shone silver. "Tell me what you did before."

Snow looked into her eyes lovingly and, rather impulsively, closed the gap between them to press a gentle kiss to Emma's forehead. When she moved back, Emma's eyes were closed and there was a strange little smile on her face.

_Does she realise what I just did?_

Emma opened her eyes again and Snow gathered herself. She was meant to be telling Emma a story about her life.

"Well," Snow said, taking hold of Emma's hand and sitting back against the tree next to her. "Why don't I tell you something about me and my best friend? It's not for the faint-hearted, but I know Ruby won't mind."

* * *

There.

Half-hidden amongst the trees, Mulan spotted the old, run-down shack she had visited many times. She tied her horse to a tree and approached the small building. So much had happened since she had last been here. The whole world had changed. Would the healer still be here?

If not, all their hopes would be crushed like dirt under their feet.

Mulan raised her fist and rapped on the door three times.

Silence.

She knocked again.

Something stirred behind the door and after a few moments, it opened.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, noble warrior?"

Mulan smiled.

* * *

The trees rustled.

Snow put down her canteen and picked up her sword. She glanced at Emma, who appeared to be asleep. She stood up slowly, her eyes scanning the perimeter within her immediate vision.

Footsteps. Over to the right.

Snow flattened herself behind a tree, the sword gripped in her hand. She steadied her breathing, readying herself to attack.

Aurora stepped from between the trees and Snow relaxed. She emerged from behind the tree and smiled in relief.

"I thought you were..."

The words died on her lips as Aurora turned towards her, face pale and eyes wide with terror.

"There's someone here," she whispered.

And somewhere close by, a clattering of pots and pans exploded through the silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Back from a holiday with no phone coverage and no internet. But, I was able to type out Chapter 6 on my phone in between having an awesome time away. Hope you all had great Christmases! As for the story, it's starting to get a little dire, but there's worse to come... ;)**

**Chapter 6**

"Emma?"

The voice was a foghorn in her ear, magnified and echoing. Just another part of the dream she was having, all silvery webs covering her, smothering her. She had been crying out for someone...

"Emma?"

She felt her shoulders being shaken. She hated being woken up at the best of times. Everything felt thick and gluey and heavy.

"Emma. We have to hide."

She blearily opened her eyes and tried to get the words to penetrate the thick fog in her head. She felt herself being pulled, almost yanked up onto her knees, felt people on either side of her. Her shoulder didn't seem to hurt anymore. That was probably a bad sign.

"Emma, someone's tripped the wire. We're going to hide you, ok?"

Her mother's urgent voice.

Her mother wouldn't let her down...

_Someone's tripped the wire. We're going to hide you..._

"I can fight," she mumbled, feeling a rush of vertigo as she found herself on her feet. Her legs seemed to know what to do, even if she didn't, and she moved forward with the help of Aurora and Mary Margaret. They walked miles, or maybe metres, it all felt the same, until she felt herself be lowered onto the ground again and covered with...branches? Scratchy and rough, sticking into her sides, her face.

"Not this time, my darling. Just stay here and we'll come and get you when it's safe."

_We'll come and get you when it's safe..._

_My darling..._

That implied it wasn't safe.

"Where are you going?" she mumbled again. "Don't leave me here. I can fight." But, they had already gone and she lay in the near-darkness with her eyes closed, having no idea where she was or what she was meant to be hiding from.

The words echoed in her head again.

_We'll get you when it's safe..._

_My darling..._

She couldn't remember being given such a name before. She wanted to ask Mary Margaret...something. What was it?

Emma opened her eyes and stared into the dark. A cool breeze fluttered against her branch-covered face and she breathed in deeply, the mists of her mind parting somewhat to reveal one stark truth.

It wasn't safe.

* * *

Snow pulled Aurora behind a tree and peered out, trying to spot who had tripped the wire before they were spotted themselves.

"Did you see them?" she whispered to Aurora, whose eyes were wide in the gloom.

"No," Aurora replied. "I heard their voices. It sounded like two, maybe three people. What are we going to do?"

Snow grabbed Aurora's arm and lifted it, revealing the knife for cutting the herbs Aurora still held in her hand.

"Well, for starters, you're going to use this if it comes to that," she said. "We're defending each other and we're defending my daughter. They won't get their hands on any of us if we have each other's back." She looked out into the night again. "We split up. Watch them carefully, keep them in front of you at all times, even if it's only a shadow you're seeing. If you see them go anywhere near where we put Emma, you use that knife." She turned to Aurora and her eyes shone fiercely in the dark. "And you better not miss. I don't care what you've never done before. I only care what you _can_ do now." She nodded beyond Aurora's shoulder. "Go."

Aurora swallowed, turned and ducked down, moving like an apparition between the trees. Snow turned back to their campsite, stiffening when she saw a shape move hesitantly into the open. Keeping her eyes on the figure, she reached behind her back and drew an arrow from her quiver. She notched it into her bow slowly and soundlessly and raised it slightly.

Another figure could be seen joining the first.

Snow kept her bow at the ready.

Not yet.

Let them all reveal themselves before they died.

* * *

_When it's safe...my darling..._

It wasn't safe.

Her mind swirling with this thought, Emma pushed the branches aside and rolled over onto her hands and knees, fighting the dizziness that threatened to overcome her.

Which way to go? Every direction was black forest.

She chose left and, lurching to her feet, began staggering away into the dark.

* * *

Aurora clenched the handle of the knife with a death grip.

Never had she been asked to do anything even remotely like this in her life.

_Get some herbs._

_Find us a campsite._

_Use the knife._

They weren't exactly friends. She'd been bent on exacting revenge on them when they first met. She'd even pulled a knife on Snow, but in hindsight, doubted if she would have been able to use it. Yet, sometime since then, they'd ended up protecting each other. And now, she couldn't stomach the thought that something might happen to them.

Mulan was out there right now, risking it all for them.

Why couldn't she do the same?

Aurora strained her eyes to see.

Yes, there was a shadow flitting in between the trees. The person wasn't big and Aurora imagined, rather fancifully, that she could take them out. She would use the knife this time. She started following the shadow, keeping it in front of her, just as Snow had said. But, she soon realised something was wrong. The shadow was weaving back and forth, as if drunk and, with a shock, Aurora realised who it was.

"No," she whispered, her heart beating faster. "No."

Aurora moved faster now, ducking and weaving to catch up to the figure. In the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair.

Where was Snow?

* * *

Snow watched the two shapes move carefully around their campsite, poking about in their possessions and inspecting the scraps of their meal in the charred remains of their smoking fire. She had been watching for a few minutes and was more relaxed now that there only seemed to be two of them.

She briefly wondered if Aurora was nearby.

And anxiously hoped Emma was still in her hiding place.

Snow lifted the bow to her shoulder, one of the figures in her sights. She could shoot them now, confident of being able to reload her bow quickly enough to take them both out. The figures had their backs to her and it was an easy shot, but Snow hesitated, feeling uneasy about shooting someone in the back, no matter their dark intentions towards her.

Strange how shooting them face to face was more palatable.

It was at that moment, a lonely bird chose to call loudly, eerily in the silence.

The birds had always been her friends.

One of the figures turned towards the sound, giving Snow a clear shot.

She didn't waste it.

She stepped out from behind the tree and the figure turned his head to look.

Snow let the arrow fly.

* * *

Emma grabbed a passing tree before she could fall. Sweat made her hair cling to her neck and face and she could hardly get a decent breath.

_It's not safe..._

Where was her mother? Was Mary Margaret already dead? And Aurora too? Surely, the universe couldn't be so cruel, to let it end like this. To die in such a pointless way, with no chance to properly say anything.

_I'll never willingly let you go..._

That's what Mary Margaret had said to her. Well, she wasn't letting Mary Margaret go without one hell of a fight.

Emma's gasping breaths would wake the dead, she was sure, but she couldn't see anyone dangerous around. Where was the danger? All she had to fight with were her bare hands. Was that enough?

A hand clamped around her mouth before she could cry out and a strong arm held her own arms to her sides, squeezing her tightly. Emma struggled, but her body was long since sapped of any strength and she soon sagged against her captor. The last vestiges of fog cleared from her mind, though.

"What do we have here?" a sinister whisper sounded in her ear.

Emma tried to shout, but the only sound that emerged was a strangled gurgle. She felt herself being dragged backwards.

"I've got one," she heard his voice call. "We'll use her as lev..."

He choked.

Shuddered.

Gasped.

And suddenly Emma was falling.

* * *

Snow whipped out a second arrow before the first man even fell to the ground.

The second man had no chance.

She despatched him as he came face to face with her.

"I've got one!"

She heard the call and turned quickly. It was coming from the opposite side of the camp to the one they had hidden Emma.

Aurora!

Snow charged between the trees in the direction of the voice. She grabbed another arrow and looked down as she notched it. When she looked up, she came to a sudden, skidding stop.

It was all clear in the rising moon.

Emma was on the ground on her hands and knees.

A large man lay barely feet away.

A knife in his back.

Aurora turned and faced her, her face white in the moonlight.

"You told me not to miss." Her voice quivered. She smiled bravely.

Snow walked quickly over to Emma and dropped to her knees beside her.

"Hey," she said softly and Emma's head snapped up, her silver eyes watery and wild. "Are you ok? Did he hurt you?"

Emma shook her head slowly, as if she didn't quite understand.

"I was coming to rescue you," she said, sitting back on her heels. And then she laughed, a voice hoarse with fever and strained from breathing so hard. "I thought you were dead and I...I would never willingly let you go." She laughed again, this time surprised at herself.

Snow recognised the words as her own and the unspoken love with which they were uttered. Somewhere deep inside, the child in Emma was reaching out to her. The poison had loosened her hold on those walls of hers. Was she a terrible mother to be grateful for that?

"Come on," she replied, helping Emma to her feet. She turned to Aurora. "Are you ok to go through his belongings? There may be something useful."

Aurora nodded, glancing down at the body. Snow reached out and put a hand on her arm. Their eyes met.

"Thank you," Snow said quietly.

Aurora's expression softened from the terror she had been caught in and she nodded again, before bending down over the fallen attacker.

Snow led Emma back to their camp and sat her down next to the remnants of the fire. She walked over and knelt beside the first man, turning him over and patting him down. She found a few coins, a knife, some kind of handkerchief and a small piece of bread.

Mulan had been right about the curse turning good men to darkness.

An inspection of the second man turned up nothing useful except a tiny bottle containing some sort of liquid. Snow was about to open it when Aurora joined them, empty-handed.

"He had nothing," she said with a sad smile.

Snow nodded and opened the bottle. A strong smell emerged and she raised her eyebrows at the pungent odour.

"What is that?" Aurora asked, standing up, picking up one of their blankets and placing it around Emma's shoulders. Emma smiled weakly, pressing her fingers to her temples.

"I'm not sure," Snow replied, holding out the bottle for Aurora to take. "It doesn't smell good though."

Aurora brought the bottle to her nose and breathed in. Her nose wrinkled, but her eyes suddenly widened.

"I know this! My maid used to give this to me when I was sick as a child!" she exclaimed. She studied the bottle. "How on earth did he acquire this?"

Snow held out her hand and Aurora passed the bottle back.

"Probably stole it. Perhaps he has a sick child somewhere." She glanced over at Emma. "Would you give it to her?" she asked Aurora.

Aurora, too, looked at Emma.

"It's safe, if that's what you're asking. I'd recognise that smell anywhere. It won't do anything about the poison, but, it might ease her fever."

Emma lifted her head.

"You know, I'm right here," she said dryly. "You can actually talk to me about it."

Snow smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she said, bringing the bottle over to Emma. "Sometimes, it's difficult to know when..."

"When the poison hasn't stripped me of my marbles?" Emma finished, raising her eyebrows wearily.

Snow sat beside her and held out the bottle.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that..."

Emma took the bottle and sniffed at it cautiously. Her head jerked back as the odour hit her nose.

"That's disgusting! What is it?"

Snow put a hand behind Emma's neck and held her elbow.

"Drink it and find out," she said lightly.

Emma mock-glared at her, her silvery eyes making her seem dangerous, angry. But, she obediently tilted her head back and Snow poured it down her throat. Emma felt every drop of it burn through her mouth and in her throat and she almost gagged.

"It's horrible to drink, but it will help your fever and your head," Aurora said sympathetically.

"Which is just as well," Snow said, rubbing Emma's back unconsciously. "Because we can't stay here any longer. We need to pack up and move on. There may be more bandits." She looked behind her. "We could cross the river. I saw a bridge earlier." She turned back to Emma. "Are you ok to walk a little?"

Emma gazed at her. Her mother always knew what to do. Nothing seemed to faze her. She simply accepted the situation and dealt with the problems as they came. Emma felt foolish for having gone stumbling through the dark, hell-bent on 'rescuing' her. Sure, she hadn't really been in her right mind, but still...

Suddenly, Emma was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to lay her head on Mary Margaret's shoulder and feel her strength, her surety. She wanted to feel Mary Margaret squeeze her hand in reassurance and put an arm around her shoulders. She knew, now, how strong her mother actually was and Emma trusted her.

Oh, how she wanted to ask for her mother's comfort. For her mother's strength.

She had never wanted it more.

And it wasn't because she was caught up in a fever, her mind twisted in delirium. She was completely lucid.

But, Mary Margaret wouldn't do it unless Emma asked her to.

And Emma couldn't ask. She just couldn't. So, she just enjoyed the feeling of her mother's hand on her back.

"Yes," she said eventually. "I can walk a little."

* * *

"How fast did you ride to get here?" the healer asked Mulan as he held the newly-concocted antidote up to the light.

"Faster than I ever have," Mulan replied, as she adjusted the saddle on her horse.

The healer turned to her sombrely and held out the antidote.

"Then, your return journey must be faster still," he said gravely. "If there is to be any hope for your friend."

Mulan took the bottle carefully and placed it in her saddlebag. She faced the healer and held out her hand. They shook and she mounted the horse.

"Not even the wind shall catch me," she said confidently. She nodded once, nudged her horse and took off.

The healer watched her go.

"I hope so," he whispered.

* * *

The tonic didn't last long.

Especially after she'd retched most of it up into the bushes. She'd made it to the river and over the bridge quite well, but since then she'd had to coach herself with every step until finally, she'd had to give up her pride and walk with one arm slung over Aurora's shoulder and the other over Mary Margaret's. Her head hung low, half from weakness, half from embarrassment. They managed to continue like this a little further until not even their strength could hold her up and she dropped to her knees, reaching out with her hands to stop herself from face-planting into the dirt. She remained like that for some time, her hair covering her face and her forehead resting against the ground, listening to Mary Margaret give Aurora jobs to do to set up their camp.

"Emma," her mother whispered.

Emma wanted to raise her head and tried, but barely made a movement. She could hear the worry even in a whisper. She slid her hand around on the ground, before feeling Mary Margaret take it in her own. She pulled slightly, hoping her mother understood the message that she couldn't move, even if she had wanted to.

The poison.

It was sucking her insides out. Taking anything useful for itself. It was taking her.

She felt Mary Margaret in front of her, grabbing her under the arms and pushing her up. She tried to help, but she seemed to be getting in her own way. Finally, she found herself up on her knees again, held up by her mother.

"I can't go any further," Emma whispered. "I think this is where I have to stop."

A brief flash of pain appeared on her mother's face.

"I'm not letting you go, remember?" Mary Margaret whispered back. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Emma before Emma had time to be surprised. As she was squeezed harder, Emma realised what Mary Margaret was doing and she returned the embrace, lifting one leg and pushing up until she was standing on both jelly-like legs, all wobbly and shaking.

Emma couldn't break the embrace and laid her head on Mary Margaret's shoulder. She was certain she would fall without her mother's arms around her. She was helpless, utterly dependent. It made her feel angry and scared all at the same time.

Snow held on for dear life. She could practically feel the life being sucked from Emma's body and frantically hoped Emma could feel every ounce of the strength of her love. When she felt Emma go limp, Snow dragged her near to where Aurora had set up a small fire. She covered Emma with a blanket and brushed her hair back, kissing her forehead, her cheek.

"Henry," Emma murmured. "Henry..."

"You'll see him soon, my love," Snow said, a single tear dripping from her chin and onto Emma's face. "Just wait a little longer."

* * *

The nights were always worse.

She sat while the hours of darkness passed. She heard things she never wanted to hear again. That gagging cough, that rasping breath. Her daughter's desperate, delirious cries.

Names.

Names Snow knew. Emma called for Henry constantly, sounding lost and sad. She called in anger for someone called Neal. She uttered Regina's name once.

And then Emma had said _her_ name. She alternated between Snow and Mary Margaret as if she wanted to choose, but couldn't. And that was when Snow had gathered Emma in her arms and pulled her impossibly close. Tried to keep Emma with her through the sheer force of her will.

And she wept while her daughter murmured her name.

She wept for the cruelty of twenty-eight years. She wept for the loss of long-wished for dreams and crushed hopes. She buried her face in her daughter's golden locks and rocked her treasured child gently.

"Don't give up," she breathed into her daughter's ear. "Don't give up."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Happy New Year everyone. All I can say about what you're about to read is-remember that I believe in happily ever after! Just trust me for a little longer :) Thank you for reading and encouraging me with your reviews. I just reread them and you are all very generous. And a big thank you for getting me to 100 follows AND 100 reviews. This is now my most popular story! There is only 1 chapter after this and I hope I can post it before Sunday night. I am glad you love this story as much as I have loved writing it!**

Chapter **7**

The morning light was grey, keeping the camp gloomy and dull until the sun was well above the horizon.

Aurora lay beside the fire, watching Snow hold Emma. Nobody had spoken in hours. Emma had finally settled sometime before dawn, but it was clear that Snow had no intention of letting Emma go.

Aurora got up and filled a pot with some water from a canteen, setting it on the fire to boil. She imagined noone would feel like eating, but at least they could have a hot drink with some of the tea leaves Mulan had left them with.

Snow became aware of Aurora moving around, but didn't acknowledge her, keeping her eyes closed. Her daughter's limp and spent body was heavy and uncomfortable, but Snow had no interest in laying her on the ground, at least until she woke up.

Today seemed to stand still in time.

Either Mulan would return with the means to restore Emma's health.

Or...

Snow squeezed her eyes closed tighter. Then they snapped open as she heard Emma groan and try to move.

When Emma became aware of herself and the forest around her, she didn't think it was possible to feel this heavy. She was like lead. But, she realised immediately she wasn't on the ground. Someone's arms were around her, holding her up against them.

She knew who it was.

And despite the leadness, the weakness and the thumping in her head, Emma felt safe.

"M..y M-gret?" she tried to speak with a tongue that felt dry and swollen. She felt her forehead being stroked with gentle fingers and...a kiss? The sensation made Emma's eyes burn with tears, but she had no strength to stop the ones that escaped. She hoped her mother didn't see them, though her mother seemed to see everything, especially when it came to her.

How did she know things? How was she able to see through the walls, guess so accurately what lay beyond them?

How was she able to love Emma so deeply, with no expectations and no promise of reciprocation?

But, the thing was, it _was_ reciprocated. Emma just didn't know how to say it.

Her reverie was soon broken.

"Maybe she could drink this," a voice said quietly. "It's hot."

Emma felt her head being lifted.

"Emma? Drink this sweetheart."

She'd never had so many pet names in her life. My darling. My love. Sweetheart. If she'd been herself, she would have had some biting remark to say or at least an eye roll or two. Any way to fob it off, keep such intimacy at bay. But, not here. Not when she was lying in her mother's arms being loved more than she knew was possible.

Nobody had ever loved her like that.

She opened her mouth and let the hot liquid soothe her throat. She opened her eyes. Everything was blurry and out of focus. She saw a dark shape above her and lifted her eyes to it.

"Is it you?" she whispered dazedly. Dreams had a way of making you think they were real. She didn't want it to be a dream.

"Yes," came the reply. "It's me. I just have to lie you down for a second, ok? Then I'll be back."

Emma felt the loss and, for some reason, held tight to Mary Margaret's arm.

"Where are you going?" she whispered.

There was a pause.

"There's just something I have to take care of. I've been waiting for you to wake up so I can do it. I need you to stay awake until I get back. Can you do that for me?"

Emma let her hand relax, feeling foolish for being clingy. She hadn't been able to control it really. It had been just a natural reaction to want to keep her mother close.

"Yeah."

Snow walked over to Aurora, near the fire.

"How is she?"

Snow shrugged.

"The nights are usually worse so hopefully, she'll get a little stronger as the morning goes on. We may even be able to move on a little, make it easier for Mulan." Better to say that than what she was really thinking.

She smiled at Aurora before walking away amongst the trees. Her smile faded quickly. She felt exhausted from the night she had just endured. So many moments she had wished Charming had been there to encourage her and give her hope.

It was becoming more and more difficult with every struggling breath Emma took. And the way Emma was opening up to her in all these little ways...

Trusting her.

Relying on her.

Wanting her near.

In a way, Snow felt the poisonous arrow was partly responsible for revealing her daughter to her.

Snow held one of her arrows tightly in one hand and walked over to a tree. In her mind's eye, she recalled the symbol Mulan had drawn on the ground. The symbol she could use to find their camp.

To Snow, it was an admission. One she could barely make. One she didn't want to make.

That Emma could go no further.

That this was the place her daughter would survive or...

Yet, she had to prepare for Mulan's return. They still had many hours of light before they could look to her coming.

Snow dug her arrow into the hard wood of a tree.

And prayed Emma would last that long.

* * *

Emma stared up at the forest canopy, swaying gently in the breeze. Her body was utterly used up. It was hard to breathe properly. She could barely see more than shadows and shapes. Her eyes were hard to keep open now. But she had told her mother she would stay awake.

She was so weak.

And her mother was so strong. In fact, Mary Margaret was everything she had ever wanted a mother to be. Things she had dreamed of when she was a kid were coming to light about a mother she had, deep down, never expected to meet.

Kind.

Selfless.

Loving.

Determined.

She had put Emma first since the moment Emma had been born. And Emma knew that whatever happened next, her mother would continue doing that.

There was just one problem...

One tiny, little problem.

And it tore at her more than the poison.

Emma felt something inside her crushed and broken heart. Was it too late for hope? She again felt the burning behind her eyes, signifying the arrival of something she had never let anyone see if she could help it.

Not when she had been bounced from foster home to foster home.

Not when she realised Neal was gone forever, having taken her heart and betrayed her.

Not when she was lying in a prison cell waiting for 11 months to pass.

No, she had let her tears be seen for one reason only.

The most brutal and heartbreaking of all.

Family.

When Henry had fallen victim to Regina's magic.

And when she'd confessed to her mother that she wasn't used to anyone putting her first.

And now, her body wasted and wracked with poison and pain, Emma cried, her chest jerking and her shoulders shaking. She cried for the gaping hole that had been waiting to be filled her whole life.

And the means to heal such a hole had come too late.

She would be gone before she had ever known what it could be like.

With her hands pressed to her head to try and cover the sound, Emma Swan cried for her mother. And felt the full desolation of what she knew was going to happen.

She was going to die.

She was going to break her mother's heart.

And they would be separated again.

This time, forever.

* * *

Aurora looked away, into the woods. She felt so awkward. So sorry. And she wished she didn't have to witness such a private moment. She wondered if Emma even knew she was there. Maybe the poison had taken such a toll that she didn't care.

She looked to the trees where Snow had disappeared to. She could see her returning now, picking her way carefully through the longer grass. Any moment now, she would happen upon the scene.

Aurora had seen how strong Snow was.

Now she wondered if this was what would break her.

* * *

Snow made her way back toward Emma, tossing the blunted arrow into the fire. A strange sort of noise stopped her short. She looked over at Aurora, who seemed to be concentrating very hard on something in the other direction. Frowning, Snow turned back to Emma.

And stopped cold.

She had never expected it.

Never believed it would be allowed to happen.

She listened to the sound.

Her heart didn't know how to take it.

Her daughter was crying. Her tough, stoic, stubborn daughter had finally succumbed to the constant fear and the physical and emotional blows that seemed to come one after another. Snow knew Emma wasn't quite as strong as she wanted everyone to believe. That much had been clear that time in the nursery.

But, hearing Emma cry.

To Snow, it was the most terrifying sound in all the world.

And she couldn't stand back and watch.

She walked quietly over to Emma, who lay on her side with a hand over her face. She knelt next to Emma and slowly, gently placed a hand over the top of her daughter's. She immediately felt her stiffen, knowing she'd been caught. But after a moment, to Snow' surprise, she relaxed. Snow tenderly pulled Emma's hand away from her face.

Emma tried to relax as she felt her hand being pulled away. She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready for her mother to see this. To see her as she really was. Screwed up. Broken. Scared to death. Yet, at the same time, she knew Mary Margaret was the only one who could help. Who knew how many tomorrows she actually had? What if Mulan never came back? She couldn't go, could she, without finally being someone who had a mother. And she couldn't go without giving that mother a daughter.

_Twenty-eight years of a curse was better than a lifetime of never knowing at all._

She felt herself being turned over. She couldn't do that herself anymore either. She felt her tears slide down across her temples and into her hairline. Emma closed her eyes as she felt loving fingers wipe them away with a feather-light touch. Last time she had shrugged off these hands, embarrassed and ashamed of tears, laughing them off to protect herself from the discomfort.

This time...

Emma and Snow gazed at each other in the silence. Emma wished that she could see her mother's face properly.

"You really love me, don't you?" she whispered, hopeful eyes looking out from a gaunt face.

Snow closed her eyes at the plaintive question, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having Emma's heart in her hands. And it hadn't been through pushing or coaxing.

Emma was giving it to her.

She wanted Emma to hear this._ Really_ hear it.

Snow bent her neck until her forehead touched Emma's. She reached up and placed her hands on Emma's face, one on either side. To Emma, never had a touch felt more familiar.

"I loved you from the moment I thought you could even exist," Snow whispered. She saw Emma squeeze her eyes shut. To shut out the words or let them come? "And from the moment I saw your face, I loved you even more."

If someone had asked Emma, she wouldn't have been able to tell them how she felt at hearing those words. After believing for so long that her mother had never loved her to finally understanding she was loved like no other...

Mary Margaret sat back. Emma, pale and shivering, felt the loss.

"Will you..." Words were becoming difficult. "Will you hold...my hand?"

Mary Margaret's face seemed to crumble and she nodded through her tears. She reached out and threaded her fingers through Emma's.

Emma smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Snow had ever seen.

"I love you." Emma whispered. And she opened her eyes, finally brave enough to meet her mother's gaze."I love you."

Snow knew what it meant. Those achingly precious words that, in another place and time, would have filled her with joy. Today, the words squeezed her heart with a painful revelation.

They were Emma's gift to her.

It was her goodbye.

She held Emma's hand tighter and let her trembling fingers glide across Emma's skin.

"Why were you crying?" she asked softly.

Emma swallowed and shifted. Her breath was even shallower now, as if the great effort at 'I love you' had released her final burst of strength.

"I..." she licked her lips. She tried again, trying to keep her eyes open. "I don't want to leave you... I just f-found you." She swallowed with an effort. " I want...to talk...to you...like you wanted before. When we were in Storybrooke...and...and..."

Snow smiled painfully, unsure as to whether Emma could even see it. Her eyes were glazed over now, far away. Snow glanced up at the sky, where the clouds had cleared away. She felt something like finality settle on her heart.

It had always been beyond her.

It had always been in Mulan's hands.

What was in her hands now? The chance to simply be with her daughter the way she had always wanted. She had told Emma that twenty eight years apart was better than a lifetime. Well, now, here in the forest, the days they had had together since the curse had been broken might have to be enough. So, she would fill these hours with Emma so her daughter would never question, never have to wonder how her mother felt.

"Emma?" Snow looked lovingly down at her daughter. "Emma, you can't go just yet." She softly trailed her fingers across Emma's forehead. "It's not your time right now, my beautiful girl. I have so many things I want to tell you first."

Emma's eyebrow twitched.

"You think I'm beautiful?" Emma's mouth barely moved as she spoke. It was hard to move that much. Still, her chest had tightened at her mother's words.

Snow could feel her lower lip trembling as she leant closer and gathered her daughter up in her arms.

"You are beautiful. And you are everything I could ever have wished you to be."

Emma felt a tear slide down toward her ear. It tickled slightly. She felt herself drifting away, perhaps to sleep...

Perhaps there wasn't time to talk after all.

"Thanks...Mom..."

The word had been more of an exhalation than a clearly uttered, defined syllable, but Snow heard it. And the ache in her chest grew to a crushing vice-like grip as she felt Emma go limp.

She buried her head in Emma's hair, sobs wracking her body.

"Emma, I have to be selfish now. Don't go. Stay with me. You can have the family you always dreamed of. I'm sorry we had no other way. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please hold on and I'll be everything you never had before. But you have to hold on. Please hold on."

She was vaguely aware of Aurora sitting down beside her. She felt the woman lay a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it without the need to offer words. Snow clutched at Emma's hair as she held onto her daughter's fading life. Tightly. So tightly.

She held a hand over Emma's chest. A faint, slow drum beat was all that kept her daughter alive now and Snow couldn't take her hand away, as if, by her own touch, that heart would never stop beating.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N This has been a great story to write and thank you for coming along for the ride. It's been quite amazing to read your responses. So, with a tinge of sadness, here is the last chapter of With You Beside Me :) Bright side, the real thing's back on Sunday night!**

**Chapter 8**

The horse panted. Its hooves thundered across the ground.

Mulan looked to the sky, to where the sun was making its slow journey lower and lower into night.

Her thoughts alternated between blind determination and crushing regret.

But, not confidence.

Never confidence.

The wind seemed to be outrunning her.

She urged her horse ever onward.

"Give me everything," she whispered to it.

It seemed to hear her and pushed harder.

Faster.

* * *

_"Your child, my lady."_

_She opened her arms and allowed the baby to be carefully placed there. She brought the tiny bundle close to her chest and pulled back the blanket to see inside._

_To see her daughter. _

_To touch the smooth, soft skin that had never felt the sun. To feel the tiny fingers wrap around one of hers like a lifeline in the dark. To watch the sleeping face that had never known sorrow, never shed tears, never been crushed by the weight of too many burdens._

_"You will find us again," she whispered. "One day, you will find us."_

_The baby opened her eyes and it seemed to Snow that her unfocused eyes looked right at her._

_"Emma," her mother whispered. "Emma."_

* * *

The fire flickered.

The sun was low.

Time continued to tick.

And her daughter's heart was still beating.

She was strong. So strong, grimly holding on to life, unable to let go. Snow wondered if Emma could feel her on the inside. Wherever she was. She had memorised every line on Emma's face, though she seemed to have far too many. She had run her hands over the skin of Emma's fingers, remembering how Emma's tiny, newborn fingers had curled around hers in their brief hour of meeting so long ago. She had run her hands through the golden hair over and over, remembering her own long raven hair.

Back in another life.

Snow stared at the sky, where the fluffy white clouds, tinged with gold, drifted slowly by. Her fingers absently stroked through Emma's hair yet again.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Her tears were gone. She had cried them all and then some. Her thoughts had gone in circles, assigning blame, regret and sorrow in equal measure. She had replayed every conversation with Emma she could ever remember having, taking comfort in the small ways Emma had opened up to her, cared about her, fought for their friendship. They had been close. It had almost been like the two of them against the world.

But, most of all, she thought of those moments.

Those two, indescribable moments.

_I love you._

_Thanks...Mom._

Who knew how powerful words could really be until they were spoken? Words from her daughter she had dreamed of since she had first pulled back the blanket to see her tiny face. Twenty-eight years ago.

It couldn't be the end of that already. Not when they were only at the beginning.

Snow let her hand rest on Emma's heart and closed her eyes.

_Keep beating_, she thought. _Keep beating._

What would Charming say if he were here?

Don't give up.

Have faith.

Emma will live.

But, Charming wasn't here.

And nor was Mulan. It was her and Aurora.

So, Snow, sitting in the middle of the forest, with the last embers of hope dying out, recited the words to herself. And tried with all her heart to believe them.

_Don't give up._

_Have faith. _

_Emma will live._

_Emma will live..._

* * *

"Snow."

She started, opening her eyes and looking up at Aurora's frightened face.

"Someone's coming."

Snow looked down at Emma, who had gone beyond pain, beyond hearing.

Beyond her reach.

And she would have sat there and let them come, but for Emma's request that she go on.

For Henry.

For their family.

"Did they trip the wire?" she asked, moving slowly but smoothly to lay Emma on the ground. She stood up, taking the bow that Aurora handed her.

The woman shook her head.

"There were footsteps... I couldn't just sit around here anymore, so I went walking. I heard them and came straight back here."

Snow nodded, taking a last glance down at Emma.

"Stay here. I don't want her to be alone."

She waited until Aurora nodded, before walking quickly in the direction Aurora was pointing. She notched an arrow in her bow and pulled it back. Ready. Her hooded eyes stared grimly, her mouth set in a thin line.

This time she would have no qualms about shooting someone in the back.

* * *

Aurora strained her ears to listen beyond the forest sounds. What could she possibly do if something happened to Snow? Then, it would just be her and...Emma.

And Emma was all but gone.

She laid her hand on the blade which had been near her at all times since she'd first picked it up to cut herbs. She could defend. She had already used it once. She could go down fighting. Make Mulan proud of her. And Philip.

A twig snapped to her left and she picked up the knife. She moved slightly to crouch beside a tree a few feet from Emma and swallowed hard, feeling her legs and arms tremble.

_Don't think about it. Don't give them a chance._

The next moment had her frozen in disbelief.

"Aurora!" came a loud whisper. "Aurora!"

Aurora's eyes all but bulged out of her head.

"Mulan?"

She turned and craned her neck to see the warrior charge between the trees and into their camp, her cloak trailing behind her. Aurora stared at her, her mouth agape. It was what they had been waiting for for three nights, but suddenly it seemed so unexpected. Perhaps, secretly, she hadn't expected it at all.

Mulan looked around, took in the situation and immediately walked to where Aurora crouched near Emma. She put a hand on Emma's head.

"Where's Snow?" she asked, anxiously looking over Emma's condition. The blonde woman was clearly unconscious.

Close to death.

"I'm right here," Snow replied, striding into the camp and dropping to her knees beside them. She gripped Mulan's arm in relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

Mulan looked at Snow. Her eyes were red and raw and anguished beyond anything Mulan had ever seen.

"Is she...?"

"I don't know," Snow replied. "She has a heartbeat." She bit her lip and nodded. "She has a heartbeat." It was everything she was clinging to right now.

Mulan held up a small bottle containing the precious antidote. Snow stared at it for a moment, then reached out and took it from her, uncapping it. She took a deep breath, looked at both her companions, and pulled Emma into her arms as she had so many times. She tilted Emma's head back and poured a little of the liquid into her mouth, keeping her head back so it would run down her throat in the absence of swallowing.

"Just a sip," Mulan directed. "Every hour until morning. By then," she looked from one to the other, "we'll know."

Snow recapped the bottle and leaned back, still holding Emma's head in her lap, though at a lesser angle now. All three women looked at each other in silence. Somewhere far away, a lonely wolf howled. The shadows once again crept through the wilderness.

Another endless night.

More vigilant hours.

But, now they were three.

There was nothing to do now but wait until morning.

* * *

Swimming.

That's all she could describe it as.

Reaching up for something. To a voice she could hear just beyond her awareness, like a friend long lost, but whose name was still on the edge of memory.

"...?"

She felt like she needed to hear that voice.

"...ma?"

Whoever it was, they were persistent. It was a voice she recognised, though it seemed to be floating in her mind like a wave about to glide onto the seashore.

"Emma?"

She felt like smiling, but there was too much heaviness everywhere. She opened her mouth, just barely.

"M..." It hardly sounded more than a whimper.

A hand, touching her face...

Snow held her hand to Emma's face, hardly daring to breathe.

"Open your eyes, Emma," she whispered. She watched Emma frown and wince and felt so anxious she wanted to scream.

_Please open your eyes. Please come back to me._

She was trying. If only they weren't stuck fast. Emma felt like she could almost reach up and rub them. Almost.

She opened her mouth and breathed in, the best lungful of air she'd had in days. She felt her lungs expand, felt the oxygen just about down to her toes. It was like an icy breeze. It felt wonderful.

"I think it's working quickly," came a voice.

That wasn't Mary Margaret.

And it didn't sound like Aurora either.

It was...Mulan?

Could it be possible she had returned? Was she going to make it after all?

This time, Emma forced her eyes open. It was dim and cold, but for the fire. She felt the fresh, crisp air of early morning. And, as her eyes adjusted to the light, shapes became clearer. She saw the fire. She saw the trees stretching away to the sky. She saw the three figures huddled around her, looking haggard. Mulan looked intense and determined, but she half-smiled when Emma's eyes met hers. Aurora's eyes filled with tears and an expression of great relief passed over her face. She reached forward and grabbed Emma's hand, giving it a squeeze.

It was then Emma realised her other hand already lay in someone else's.

Emma let her eyes drift away from Aurora and across the space in between. The first thing she saw were the shadows. Mary Margaret looked so tired. But, her eyes...Emma remembered words she had heard...Had it been a dream? Or perhaps part of the delirium.

_I loved you from the moment I thought you could even exist._

_You are everything I could ever have wished you to be._

Had that been real? Emma looked into her mother's eyes. They seemed bottomless, infinite. After a moment of silent staring, one corner of Mary Margaret's mouth turned up slightly and her eyes lit up in...wonder.

Yes. It had been real.

There was no mistake.

Emma closed her eyes again. But her hand squeezed Mary Margaret's as tight as her strength would allow.

* * *

When Emma woke again, the sun had risen higher in the sky and the air was warmer, filled with the fragrance of the forest. She became aware of a dull pulse inside her head and groaned, raising her arm to shield her eyes from the light.

It felt like a bad hangover. She'd had plenty of those in her time.

At least she could move freely again.

Boy, she was thirsty. She licked her dry, cracked lips and coughed. She heard rustling coming from somewhere above her head and she opened her eyes to see Mary Margaret leaning over her, a canteen in her hand.

"Wh...at ha..." she said hoarsely, knowing her mother couldn't decipher that.

Mary Margaret placed a hand under her head, but this time Emma could help her lift. The water was like silk down her throat.

"Hey," Mary Margaret said, as she pulled the canteen away and rested Emma's head down again. Her eyes still had black shadows under them and Emma smiled crookedly.

"You...look...awful," she said and her mother smiled wryly.

"Well, that makes two of us," she said and sat down against a tree near Emma's head. She looked down. "How are you feeling?"

Emma gathered her strength and rolled excruciatingly slowly onto her side. That was a stupid idea. Now she couldn't see her mother's face. Maybe if she sat up...

"Woah!" Mary Margaret said, reaching over and placing her hands on Emma's shoulders to push her back down. "You may be on the mend, but let's not get too excited." She helped Emma onto her back again and knelt beside her. "What's your hurry?"

Emma ran a hand over her face and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Do I stink?" she asked.

Mary Margaret looked surprised.

"Uh, I hadn't noticed."

Emma looked sceptical.

"I need a shower. Or a bath. Or the river."

Mary Margaret huffed a laugh.

"We all do sweetheart."

A pindrop could have been heard in the terrifying silence that followed.

They both froze.

Emma didn't dare look at her mother. _My darling. My love. Sweetheart._ She remembered very well the moments when Mary Margaret had called her those names. It had been ok then, while she was sick and needed someone to strengthen her, care for her. Love her.

Was it ok now? Was it ok to be called such affectionate, familiar names? When she had been helpless and dying, such intimacies had been normal, welcomed even. But, she was getting better. She was more herself again. Suddenly, all of those things she had said...

_I love you._

_I don't want to leave you._

_Mom._

She had thought she would be gone forever. It had been the only thing she could do for her mother before she left. Now, she wasn't leaving and those things she had said couldn't be unsaid.

What should she say? She couldn't take them back. She...didn't want to take them back. But, looking her mother in the eye and seeing all that love...it was frightening.

Emma Swan didn't find love.

She lost it. Or never had it in the first place.

Snow slowly stood up and gestured toward the fire.

"I'll go get some more firewood," she said and backed away before Emma could say anything. She walked until she was out of sight of the camp and rested her hand on a tree trunk, running her fingers over the rough bark.

It had just slipped out and she had known it was a mistake as soon as it had left her lips. The entire forest had seemed to hold its breath. It had been easy when Emma was only half aware of what was happening and seemed responsive to her maternal side. No, she _had_ been responsive. But, Snow had known her daughter long enough to recognise when those walls shot up. When that guarded look returned to her eye.

She felt her hopes slowly crumble into dust.

Would her daughter ever really be hers?

* * *

There was nowhere to go.

Nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to run.

She would have to get up every day next to her.

She would have to walk for hours next to her.

Find a way back to Storybrooke.

Next to her.

Emma, breathing hard, pushed herself the last few inches to the tree and collapsed against it, satisfied that she had pulled herself to a sitting position. She considered the landscape before her.

The world had changed and she couldn't deny she had changed with it. She had gone down into the proverbial pit and had needed someone more than she'd ever needed anyone. Her whole life, she'd hated needing people and she hated when people needed her.

But, it had happened. And she'd survived. Dare she say it...thrived?

Henry had needed her. And she had hated it. Until she loved it.

Storybrooke had needed a sheriff. And she had done it reluctantly. Until she couldn't imagine doing anything else.

Mary Margaret had needed her to find the truth about Kathryn Nolan. And she would have moved mountains to do it.

And now. It was all in reverse.

_She_ had needed someone to love her enough to keep her alive. She had dreamed of it when she was a kid. A rescue by her parents from a life of indifference and neglect. Being saved. Being loved just because she was Emma.

When did such dreams die? When had she truly realised that noone was coming?

Her mother had said never to give up. That she came from people who didn't know how to give up. Emma had needed that. And now she had it. She had everything she had ever wanted.

She couldn't pretend it hadn't happened. She had said she loved Mary Margaret. Cried for her. Been lost in her arms. At the end, it had been as if they were the only two people left in the universe. And it had felt so right. She didn't want to give that up. She wanted it so badly.

And she wouldn't give it up.

She wouldn't.

* * *

Morning turned to afternoon turned to evening. Emma felt stronger with every hour that passed. She could stand by herself and walk around a little. Take a trip to the river to clean off the grime of poison and dirt and blood.

But she also felt more awkward. Her mother continued to attend to her patiently and lovingly, but Emma could see, now, that she was holding back. It wasn't like before, when she had been sick, and the words and looks they had exchanged had come easily, naturally. And Emma knew it was for her benefit that Mary Margaret was holding back, not because she wanted to. It hurt to know that she was hurting her mother.

Emma tried to speak a thousand times.

And a thousand times she closed her mouth.

It was a relief when Mulan suggested they try walking a bit the next day, just to get Emma started again. They would find a new campsite and regroup, make a new strategy to combat Cora. It would be good to have something else to focus on rather than her emotional inadequacies.

Emma watched as Mary Margaret stoked the fire, before turning and settling down beside her. Emma stared at her, words springing to her lips, then dying away.

_Just say something_! she shouted at herself. Surely it couldn't be more painful than this. Not even the poison had been as painful.

Mary Margaret turned to look at her.

"Are you ok?" she asked quietly, concern and anxiety in her expression. She put a hand on Emma's arm.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek. And nodded.

"I'm fine," she replied, wanting to kick herself.

* * *

They left the camp behind mid-morning of the next day. It felt good to be moving again, albeit slower than before. This time, it was her bringing up the rear and not Aurora.

She could feel it building as she walked along. Some kind of explosion. It felt like words were constantly, frustratingly on the tip of her tongue. Emma rubbed her forehead, though if she'd been alone, she probably would have smacked it instead.

It happened after lunch. It burst out just like that moment in the nursery.

"I can't call you Mom," she blurted.

Mulan and Aurora exchanged a glance and wisely kept walking.

Snow slowed to a stop, looking more thoughtful than hurt.

_She's been waiting for me to say something_, Emma realised. Though saying she couldn't call her Mom was probably not what her mother had been hoping for. Her mother seemed to be able to wait forever. It was as if Emma couldn't get to the bottom of the love, she just found new depths.

"I understand," Snow said quietly.

Emma shook her head and put a hand to her brow.

"That's not what I meant. I mean, it_ is _what I meant, but not so..."

Snow approached her and, hesitantly, reached out and took hold of her hands. She smiled in understanding and squeezed Emma's hands.

"Just breathe. I know you're trying to tell me something. I'm listening."

Emma screwed up her face, as if in pain.

"How do you do that?" she asked.

Her mother cocked her head to the side.

"Do what?"

Emma shook her head.

"Just...be so patient when I'm screwing up. Understand me so well. Nobody does that."

Snow smiled again.

"Nobody _did_ that," she corrected. "You're going to have to get used to it. I haven't even begun to know you yet."

Emma snorted.

"Yeah, and that's what's so scary," she retorted. She swallowed, feeling surprised at herself. It had suddenly been so easy to admit that. "Uh..."

"You don't think I'm scared?" her mother asked. "You're a tough nut to crack, Emma Swan."

Emma frowned and looked down to where their hands were joined.

"I don't mean to be," she replied. "Well, I do. But not with you. At least...I don't want to be that way with you." It was coming out all wrong. Since when couldn't she construct sentences like a normal person? She sighed and stepped back, but her mother tightened her grip.

"That's where you start," she said gently. She pulled Emma back toward her. "Instead of taking a step back, take a step forward."

Emma shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

"Yeah, but then I'll be..."

"Right here?" Snow said, smiling and pulling her again so they were toe to toe. She raised their hands and turned her wrists so Emma's hands were held tight against her chest. "Then I'll have you exactly where I want you. Right beside me."

Emma somehow knew the worst of the battle was over. A battle she had been fighting for so long. It had been over since the arrow had entered her. And, for the first time, that felt ok. She nodded.

"Can I have my hands back please?"

Snow smirked and let go.

"For now."

"Maybe one day, I can call you...that...again," Emma said quickly, not wanting to lose her nerve. "It just might take some time. And I...don't mind the names you called me..." she flushed and stared at her feet.

It was so hard, this family business.

This getting close.

This loving someone when it felt like falling off a cliff.

Snow nodded slowly, a secret smile passing over her face.

Her hopes stirred from the dust.

"I understand," she said, turning and starting to walk again. She knew how to do it now. Slow steps. Tiny steps. But, forward steps nonetheless.

Emma felt exasperated, though she didn't know why. She turned and followed her mother, adrenalin surging through her. She didn't see the tree root until her foot got caught in it and she went sprawling. She lay there in the dirt for a moment, before slowly rising to her knees.

"Emma? Are you ok?"

She looked at Snow, who stood in front of her looking anxious.

Emma half-smiled.

"Peachy. Just my big feet."

Snow's expression cleared and she tilted her head to look critically at Emma's feet.

"Oh. Well, our feet are about the same size. You must have got the clumsiness from your father." She smiled disarmingly and reached out a hand.

Emma raised her eyebrows, feeling warm from the gentle ribbing. She grabbed onto her mother's hand and felt herself being hauled to her feet. Snow held onto her hand a moment longer and squeezed.

"You're pretty strong, you know," Emma remarked as they began walking along.

Snow looked sideways at her.

"Oh, my darling. You have no idea."


End file.
